#the local nerd/dork

[jack-crow-lantern]

I met this nerd.

He’s got so much sass you guys. His sass levels are unbelievable.

[trashcanfills]

When u somehow get Zhongli with no pity even though u have complained abt him out loud while playing his quests :^)

Ok as much as I shittalk abt him, I do find a good amount of stuff that he says very interesting (when he isn’t that absent-minded of course). Sometimes I wanna pick at the information and opinions he shares with us. I esp love intellectual stimulation.

Like that discussion whereby he and some archaeologists talk the origins of the first Mora in Zhongli’s first side story quest was fascinating. One of the archaeologists was adamant that the first Mora was used to create/refine a powerful sword and shield due to Mora doubling as a catalyst and his assumption that Rex Lapis had prior knowledge of Mora being a catalyst. In his eyes, Rex Lapis was a powerful and very knowledgeable god, so how would he not know that Mora had such a capability?

Zhongli however said that rather than anything spectacular, the first Mora was just an ordinary coin used for trade, as a way for Rex Lapis to measure value within established contracts. He also adds that it is highly likely that the same coin is somewhere still being exchanged in the lines of commerce.

It was funny when the archaeologist (who is an uppity little fuck imo) was like excuse me what kind of argument is that and then Zhongli replied with oh no Im not arguing any point Im stating facts lmao ok ceo of geo technically you are correct since you WERE literally the fucking geo archon and YOU LIVED THROUGH the damn shit but look these people dont fucking know that and of course won’t believe u even if you know its a fact like cmon bruh

But yea to be fair I would have sided with Zhongli on that the first Mora being an ordinary coin used to pay for shit as it has done hundreds of years later. Heck I even have a good supporting argument for this thanks to history/logic of sorts. Often we assume that the first existence for a particular invention would be a grand and spectacular affair. More often than not, it’s not the case.

When you look at first inventions, of the first plane, the first motorised engine, the first wheel, it always starts off with a “hey what if I create sth like this to help me and others with this problem?”, along with some trials and errors to make it work, usually in a makeshift laboratory, or out in open space, or just anywhere in the spur of the moment. There is never a grand affair, simply because not many would think abt much it until much later in the course of history where such inventions have inspired greater and grander ones to come abt. It’s an assumption that being the first in something would be celebrated, which is only possible if it is expected or anticipated like being the first in a race or sth.

Except creating a first novel invention is practically impossible to anticipate because the high risk of failure, and even then such a new creation may not necessarily create huge impacts later in the future. How the conception of the first novel inventions came abt is only realised way later in hindsight when ppl decide to trace down the origins of successful ideas or inventions. Plus, it is often that the simplest and most boring explanations are most likely to be true.

Plus, Rex Lapis, even as a “god”, is not that all-knowing or powerful even if he does have a great amt of knowledge and power. (Pls skip the rest of this paragraph if u dont want to be bored by my explanation of why I dont think he is that way) He was unable to cure his dear friend Azhdaha from the erosion, ending up having to seal him to stop him from rampaging the lands. If he knew how to save his friend, yet chose not to do so, it would paint him as someone malicious to withhold aid or someone who was not powerful enough to do so or someone who did not have the knowledge to help. We know that Rex Lapis himself has a benevolent nature since many actions of his helped the people of Liyue, and he himself did grant Azhdaha the gift of sight to witness the beauty of the land on his own, so we can safely say that he is not truly malicious, and conclude that he is not all-powerful and/or knowledgeable as a supposed perfect God.

Why in the absolute fuck did I write that entire paragraph to say that The Geo Archon isn’t actually all mighty stronk and/or smort? Its so I can say that even if regular humans see his incredibly feats as godly, it’s highly likely that the archon wasn’t really as godly as Liyue portray him to be, but rather a person just with great power and knowledge compared to humans. A person who is flawed and capable of making mistakes or not knowing certain things. Hence not knowing the impact he would have when establishing contracts and creating the first Mora coins to represent a ubiquitous form of value.

Of course if I were to say all that in front of all the archaeologists I would get kicked out of the table and even the boat lmao for saying the geo archon isnt that amazing.

But hey I made my stand and explained it the best I can even with some holes in the explanations that I could prob address but it would just make this wayyy longer and look this post is long enough and Im sure not many of u have bothered to reach up to here anyway so.

In the very least I like to think Zhongli would have been very amused, entertained and intrigued by my ramblings. We would have be great conversationalists if we ever met and talked and I would poke fun at him being a bit dum and being shit with Mora on that occasion. We would be good friends.

[tiredead-a]

speaking of games, brians a fan! he tends to enjoy highly competitive games that gets your blood pumping, he cant play calmer games cause they turn his brain off and it ends up with him just... passing out. he likes fighting games that focus on learning combos and highly advanced techniques. he isn't necessarily the best by any means, he doesn't have the energy to put in that kind of effort into it, but he likes playing against random people in arcades or through online services

he's also a huge nerd for anime. he likes the classics of shounen anime, but dabbles in other genres as well (c//owboy bebop, bleach, i//nu y//asha, etc). he's aware his taste is rather... generic? but honestly who cares. he tends to like anything you put in front of him!

ALSO COMICS. HE LOOOOOVES COMICS he has a small but growing collection of comics based around all sorts of genres. though the most prevalent one is action with super heroes. he doesn't stay updated on them much, so he tends to miss certain releases, but he LOVES comics so MUCH. theyre easier for him to engage with without passing out as they take up more power in his brain. even the less dramatic ones! plus, there's less penalty for falling asleep while reading a comic book. what's it gonna do? turn the pages on its own?

... he's dabbled in doing fandom things, such as character discussion or fanart, but he's never been very confident in it so, he's usually just a lurker. he's always out of the loop on things anyway. which does come with a price, as he once got spoiled that his fave comic character was gonna die in a recently released issues and he needed a day to recover

[happy74827]

hey are requests open…. If so can I have Dom Matthew Patel x Sub female reader (lime)

Study Buddy

[Matthew Patel x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Things get a little heated after Matthew admits his feelings to you.

WC: 1831

Category: Spice/Lime, Fluff

Matthew as a Dom? Lmfao that’s a new one (personally he gives me total Sub vibes 🤷‍♀️), but a request is a request. Hopefully I wrote it to where you like it :)

『••✎••』

Matthew Patel. A nerd with an affinity for magic. The kind of guy you would see at your local comic book store or performing “One Day More” from Les Mis in an empty movie theatre.

He was also your best friend's ex-boyfriend. He was also currently on top of you.

The two of you were in your dorm room, and you had been studying. It was exam week at college, and you were cramming for your finals when you heard the familiar sound of someone opening your door. You were on the ground, papers, and books splayed out around you. Matthew stood, hands in his pockets.

His mouth hung open slightly as he took a deep breath.

"You're so..." He paused. "I mean, you look so..." He trailed off. You cocked an eyebrow.

"Matty… are you musical theatre-ing me right now? Because if so, I really need to study-"

"No! No, just listen." He said, sitting next to you. You could tell he was nervous, fiddling with his sleeves. "You're beautiful, you're smart, and you're my friend.”

“Uh… huh? Thanks, I guess, but where are you going with this exactly-?" You asked, trying to return to your work. He cut you off, standing.

"Ramona and I never worked out, and that's because she didn't like me. I get it, but you... You actually care about me and... and... I really… I like you a lot and... And... Can you not do that?!"

You stopped writing, looking up at him. You were surprised to see his face was red and that he was sweating slightly.

"Can I not what?"

"You're doing it! The thing! With your eyebrows! It's distracting me!"

"Matthew, calm down." You said, setting down your pencil and standing up. He was about parallel with you, height-wise. Not bad, considering he was a year older.

"No! This is a big deal! This is serious! I want... I want to ask you something."

You looked him in the eyes, confused.

"What is it, Matty?" You asked, placing a hand on his shoulder. He looked away.

"Will you... Go out with me?"

There was a long pause as you processed what had just happened.

"Matthew..." You said, and he visibly cringed.

"I knew it; I knew I was being too forward. I just-"

You cut him off with a hug, burying your face in his chest.

"You're really sweaty; did you know that?" You mumbled, and you felt him laugh. He returned your hug, pulling you in. “And to be honest, you do actually look like a major pirate in this lighting."

"Uh,” His face fell. "Thanks?"

"But, I happen to have a type, you see. Sweaty pirates with magic powers who quote musicals. And I'm pretty sure that describes you perfectly." You said, smiling as you felt his heartbeat pick up. He let out a soft sigh, resting his chin on the top of your head.

"That's... That's a relief."

The two of you stayed there for a moment before he cleared his throat and gently placed a hand on your cheek, making you look at him.

"So, uh, I haven’t done this in a while.”

“You mean since that week in seventh grade with Ramona?” You asked.

His face turned red. “Ramona told you that?! Oh man, did she tell you about Pilgrim, too, or... Okay, we don’t have to talk about this; let's just..."

He leaned down, and you felt his lips press against yours. It was gentle and sweet, and he pulled away, leaving you wanting more.

"You're such a dork, Matty."

"… A good dork, right?"

"Yeah, a good dork." You smiled, kissing his nose. He chuckled, leaning down to kiss you again. For not having kissed someone in a long time, he was pretty good.

His hands slid down to rest on your hips, and your arms draped over his shoulders. Your hands tangled in his hair as his tongue gently pressed against your bottom lip, requesting entry.

You opened your mouth, letting him deepen the kiss. You felt your body being pressed against the wall behind you, and you let out a soft gasp. He took this opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, gently rubbing it against yours.

The kiss was messy, tongues and teeth clashing. It wasn’t the most elegant, but it was passionate and full of emotion.

He pulled away, looking down at you. His lips were red and swollen, his hair was messed up, and his face was flushed. You assumed you looked similar.

"… uhm, I think I accidentally set your textbook on fire."

You looked over to where you had been sitting and saw a large pile of ashes where your textbook had been.

"Aw, shit! Matthew, how am I supposed to take finals now?"

"Uhh... I’ll buy you another one. I'm sorry."

You gave him a look, and he looked down in shame. He looked like a sad puppy, and you sighed.

"Don't worry about it. I can just use my computer. And... Well, I wouldn't mind some help studying."

His eyes lit up, and he grinned, leaning in and pressing a kiss to your lips.

"Yeah, I can help. Anything for you, babe."

"Okay, ew, don't call me babe."

"Right, sorry. Honey, Sweetie, Darling, Cutie-"

"Matthew."

"Right. Sorry. Anyway, what was it that you were studying for again?"

You laughed, and the two of you got to work, studying and laughing together. Except, you didn’t study because you were too busy making out. But, that was probably the best studying of all.

The floor became your bed, and it was covered in papers. But you didn’t mind. Because the boy who had previously been known as a nerd with mystic abilities and questionable taste in music was now on top of you, kissing your neck and whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

Matthew didn’t strike you as the type of guy to take charge. In fact, you would have been surprised if he wasn't a virgin. But as he whispered to you, his hands running along your sides, his lips pressing against yours, his body pressed against yours... You could tell he wanted this just as much as you did.

It didn’t take long before you matched his energy, becoming a sweaty, blushing, panting mess. Your hands were under his shirt, running along his torso. His skin was hot, and you were sure your hands were sweaty. But he didn’t seem to mind.

In fact, he seemed to enjoy it if the groan that came from his mouth when your hand brushed across a particularly sensitive area was anything to go by.

Your name rolled off his tongue, and your heart raced as he whispered into your ear again.

"Do that again, please..."

And who were you to refuse such a polite request?

You sat up, and he adjusted his position so that he was kneeling between your legs, your arms around his neck, and your forehead pressed against his.

His coat was discarded, and the two of you were a blushing mess. His breathing was heavy, and so was yours. Your clothes had become disheveled, and your hair was messy.

But that didn’t matter because the way he was looking at you made you feel more beautiful than you ever had before.

"Y-you're amazing." He muttered, his hand on your hip. "I've liked you for so long. And now, we're here. I never thought I would be this close to you, ever. You're amazing."

You blushed, looking down.

"Matthew, you're embarrassing me."

"Sorry, I just... I need to say it: you're... you're so gorgeous."

You blushed harder, burying your face in his neck and taking a deep breath. He smelled like pine and smoke, and his hair tickled your face.

You felt him chuckle, a deep rumble in his chest. His fingers gently stroked your sides, and he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. He then moved his head so his lips were against your ear.

"You wanna hear a secret?"

"Yes, please."

"My favorite musical is The Hunchback of Notre Dame. Not the Disney movie, but the actual play."

You burst out laughing, looking up at him. He smiled, looking proud of himself.

"Oh, god, Matthew, why?"

"What? I like the songs! I sang it back in high school. Granted, I sang it behind the curtains because I was only picked for the ensemble, but I still like it!"

You couldn’t stop the laughter coming from your mouth, and he began to laugh as well. His laugh was more of confusion than anything else, but it was adorable nonetheless.

"God, you're such a nerd."

"Oh, like you aren't a nerd as well! What was it that you were listening to on your laptop the other day? 'Hamilton' or something?"

"Okay, first of all, Hamilton is amazing, and I will not let anyone, not even you, say otherwise."

"Fair enough. But, can we continue now?"

"I mean, you could just sing a song from the Hunchback of Notre Dame for me."

He laughed, leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss to your lips.

"Maybe later." He said, and his lips were back on yours, his tongue slipping into your mouth. His hands found their way under your shirt, gently running along your sides. He was gentle and sweet and very eager. His touches were light and loving, and it didn't take long for him to become more confident.

Soon, the kisses became rougher and sloppier, his touches more firm. His hips bucked into yours, and you groaned, breaking the kiss. He grinned, doing it again. You let out a shaky breath, gripping his hair.

"Matty..."

"Yeah?"

"Those demon… girls? , the uh... the ones that follow you around. Can they see us? I really don't want them watching."

His head perks up, watching you.

"Uh, not if I don't want them to. They usually stay in my shadow so they can't see. Besides, I've told them that I'm done with the whole vengeance thing. They're chill."

"Oh, okay.”

He kissed your cheek, and his lips were back on yours in a second, kissing you hungrily. His hands roamed your body, and your hands tangled in his hair, pulling slightly.

Yeah, you didn’t study that night. The excitement was too much. Instead, the two of you stayed in each other’s arms for hours, the smell of burning paper surrounding the room.

Excluding the fact that Matthew had burned your textbook and possibly owed you an entire binder full of notes, you had no complaints.

Matthew Patel might be a nerd, a loser, and a total weirdo to some. But to you, he was the sweetest, most loving, and the most wholesome person you had ever met.

And, as he pressed a kiss to your temple and muttered an "I love you," you couldn't help but smile and think that maybe, just maybe, there was some truth to the "nerds can get chicks" stereotype.

[completelyandtotalyuneventful]

I love it when phanfics make Danny just like,,, really fucking creepy.

Everyone’s just like “yes this is Danny Fenton our schools local cryptid. He has unnaturally sharp teeth and once turned his head 180 degrees. Sometimes he forgets to breath and doesn’t have a pulse. Whenever you’re around him there’s always a faint noise of static. He interferes with almost all technology and isnt allowed in the computer lab anymore. Whenever you take a picture of him the photo always comes out distorted and his eyes turn bright green. His body is unnaturally cold, and being around him causes the temperature to drop by at least 15 degrees. He also sometimes makes things frost up. Some students think he can teleport as he always disappears and reappears all around the school. He drinks ectoplasm. Whenever he has to pee there’s a ghost attack.”

I need more fics where Danny went from scrawny nerd boy to “this kid is triggering that fear you get when you see something that LOOKS human but is just Wrong in a way you cant explain” and his classmates just decide it doesnt matter because their school gets attacked by ghosts every day so the Fenton kid who has a portal to hell in his basement isnt that important. Most of the time Danny and his weird existence get brought up in brief humor filled conversations, before the subject is dropped entirely.

But sometimes, when a school day is relatively quiet, someone will have an interaction with him that will leave them with this quiet sense of terror, a feeling that Something Is Not Right With This Guy. Sometimes people wonder what happened in that lab accident those months ago that caused Danny to become so fucked up. Sometimes you lock eyes with Fenton and realize his smile is Too Sharp and his skin is Too Pale and his pupils are oddly catlike and are his ears pointed?

But then the next day Danny trips over air and then starts rambling on about NASA, and then the lunch lady starts attacking people again so everyone has bigger things to worry about, and they all just kind of become apathetic to Fentons perpetual oddness until the next time it comes into focus.

TLDR; Danny Fenton is just an absolute creature who triggers a primal survival instinct in his peers but he’s also a complete dork so they just dont care

[enhaheeseung]

Study - l. Heeseung

Warnings: smut, cursing, oral male receiving, hand job, cum eating, tiny bit of angst, all of this takes place in a library💀

Pt.1 continuation of “all dressed up.” I strongly suggest reading pt.1 but it’s not necessary

Masterlist

Word count 3,1k I think 💭 ❔

Note: Tumblr is still acting up on me, but I wanted to get this out sooner than later probably going to have to move to a new blog soon cause nothing I do is working :/ And the spacing is a bit weird, 75% unedited, so forgive me if it’s bad :( also not sure when I’ll be active again so… yeah, anyways I hope you all enjoy it and sorry for the delay.

You had just gotten out of school, and on your way home, you decided to stop at the library to study cause you didn’t want to be cooped up at home and hunched over your very poorly set up study desk in your room.

As you open the doors to your local library, the librarian greets you with a smile which you automatically return and begin to walk down the long aisles of bookshelves with several books resting on them.

You drag your finger along every one, counting to ten and then stopping when your finger lands on a hardcover. It was some random series you’d never heard of before, but the cover looked enticing, so you grabbed it from the shelf and made your way to the back corner of the library, hoping your favorite seat would be unoccupied.

You had planned to do some light reading before studying, and you couldn’t wait to sit down and cozy up on the soft seat near the window.

As soon as you turn the corner, your shoulders slump in dismay cause your very favorite seat was, in fact, taken.

You trudged to the table next to it, opting for the next best option. You sighed heavily and placed your backpack on the table in front of you, pulling out your materials.

You sigh loudly and sit down on the wooden chair.

Maybe you were overreacting, but you were really annoyed that your seat was taken. It had the best view of the outside and the best light for reading.

You huff out another sigh and look up from your book, taking a glance at the person who stole your precious seat.

It didn’t surprise you when you saw who sat in it. He wore big round framed glasses. His shirt was neat and perfectly tucked into the waistband of his grey slacks. He tapped his leg rather annoyingly while taking notes from the mound of books that sat atop his table.

And to set it all off, he kept pushing up the bridge of his glasses ever so often. You wonder how he managed to perfect the nerd image so well you had no idea people like that even existed until you laid eyes on him.

Of course, someone like him would hide out in the back of the library. Then again, if you had that hideous fashion sense, you really wouldn’t want to be seen either.

At least he’s self aware.

But that still didn’t make you any less agitated that he was in your spot.

He never once looked up from his book, only occasionally brushing his bangs away from his face so he could see properly. You could only see his lips pouted in concentration as his pencil jotted down more notes.

You hadn’t realized that you had been staring for quite a few minutes, judging his appearance and secretly cussing him out in your head cause he had taken your beloved window seat.

Heeseung was working hard for his upcoming exam.

He had just gotten out of school and came straight to the library to focus on his studies.

Usually, he sat near the front to study, but today specifically, he went towards the back so he could work in peace, knowing no one would distract him.

Until he noticed someone approaching in his peripheral, he felt a tinge of annoyance when said person sat down, and he couldn’t believe today, out of all days, someone just had to sit next to him.

He wasn’t used to it. It’s not that he hated the idea of sitting next to someone, but he just got used to being alone. Since he started going to school, he never had a seatmate. He figured it was because no one wanted to be around the “nerd” or “dork” At first, it was bothersome, but he quickly grew accustomed to it, but now that someone was finally sitting next to him, he couldn’t help but feel a bit uncomfortable as he shifted in his seat.

But as long as whoever was sitting next to him didn’t make loud noises or disturb his peace, then he was okay with it.

Unfortunately for him, that wasn’t the case.

He heard multiple loud huffs and deep sighs, causing him to lose focus. He tapped a rhythm with his foot out of habit somehow that always helped to regain his focus again.

Apparently not today, though, because after the sighs got lost in the chilly air of the library, he got this uncomfortable feeling that he was now being watched like in the corner of his eye, he could see someone looking at No, staring at him.

He again shifted uncomfortably and looked up to see who this weirdo was that couldn’t keep their eyes to themselves.

The instant he looked up, the air got knocked straight from his lungs, and all of a sudden, the last thing he was worried about was your loud sigh and longing stare.

At first, he thought his eyes were deceiving him, but there was no way he could mistake you for anybody else, and he couldn’t help but feel a little giddy.

It was you, the girl from the Halloween party, the girl that gave him the best orgasm he’s ever had, the girl he couldn’t stop thinking of ever since the night he met you.

He could only thank the higher being out there that allowed you two to meet again.

You jumped slightly when the guy who had sat near the window made eye contact with you.

You cleared your throat and quickly looked away. You felt embarrassed that he caught you staring, that’s what you get for cursing him out in your head for the last five minutes.

He did nothing to deserve all the foul insults that you conjured up about him in your head. All he did was sit down in a public library where anyone could sit freely. It’s not like that seat was reserved for you, yet you acted like it was.

You looked down at the book you had picked up earlier, deciding to actually read instead of judging a random stranger for no reason.

It was titled popcorn.

Funny title for a book, you thought.

It’s a true story. Apparently, it’s about two strangers that met at a movie theater and ended up getting married after they accidentally conceived a child. It talked about the hardships of being young parents and working through differences ultimately for the betterment of their child, which led them to fall in love along the way.

You couldn’t even flip through the first page cause you felt a piercing gaze burning into the side of your skull. You glanced up occasionally, and he was still just literally staring at you.

It felt uncomfortable, and maybe this is what you deserve for staring at him first, perhaps this is gods way of telling you to mind your own business, and maybe it’s because when you looked up and met the stranger’s eyes for the second time, you realized that it was the guy from the Halloween party.

How could you not recognize him?

Well, stupid question, he looked so much different outside of his costume, almost unrecognizable, but you couldn’t forget those huge dark orbs that looked oh so precious when he begged for you to touch him.

It’d be a lie if you said you didn’t think once or twice about him after that night.

Which was surprising given the fact you never once thought about any of your past hookups after they left your bed.

But how could you not when he literally wore a maid costume and had the audacity to wear nothing underneath?

You think back to that night, remembering how his huge cock felt in your hands, how it twitched when you degraded him and how it throbbed when he released his warm milky cum down your thro-

With a tiny shake of your head, you turned away and focused back on your book.

But he couldn’t focus on anything anymore. You’d successfully ruined his study session within just a few seconds.

When you looked back down and practically ignored his existence, he couldn’t help the hurt he felt in his heart, but before he exaggerated too much. Maybe you just didn’t recognize him. Maybe now it was you that thought he was a weirdo for staring.

He kept blowing his bangs out of his face so you could make out his features better, trying to replicate how he looked that night. After all, he did wear his hair slicked back at the party.

The loud tapping of his pencil was a useless attempt to get you to look up from your book. He kept clearing his throat quietly and readjusting in his seat so you would notice him.

He even took his glasses off, trying to mirror his appearance that night.

It was only when he whined, more like moaned out of frustration, that you looked up at him and saw the pouty look on his face.

He bit his lip nervously, just like the night at the party when you pushed him back on the mattress before you gave him the hand job of his life.

That look alone was enough for you to close the book and stop everything that you were doing so you could focus on nothing but him.

“Hey, pretty boy.”

You chuckled when he looked to his left and right, searching to see if you were talking to someone else, and his eyes grew wide once he realized he was the only person around.

It felt like deja vu.

He sat up straight in his chair and cleared his throat for the fifteenth time. Yes, he was counting. “H-hi,” he muttered, pushing his bangs away from his face one last time.

“What a coincidence” you got up from your chair and moved it right next to his getting as close to him as possible, and he visibly gulped at the proximity.

“Y-yeah,” he sat there stiff as a board, looking straight ahead.

“What brings you here?” You say, and it really did feel like the night at the party all over again.

“S-study” again with the stutter…

Gosh, he’s so adorable.

As elated as he was that you were finally paying attention to him, he might have gotten just a little bit too excited.

He reached over to the table not so discreetly and picked up his notepad to cover his quickly growing erection.

“Isn’t that a bit tiring?” You ask, moving the notepad back to the table and running your hand up the length of his thigh.

“Y-yes” he squeezed his eyes shut and balled his fists at his sides.

“Want to take a break?” You couldn’t help but bite your lip at the sight of his bulge straining against his pants.

“Uhh y-yeah, I mean yes.” He whispered without hesitation closing his eyes once more and releasing a deep sigh.

“You’re so cute when you stutter,” you lean in and whisper in his ear, nibbling gently on his pierced lobe.

He really did everything in his power not to moan, but when your hand traced the outline of his hard-on poking through his slacks, he couldn’t help it.

As soon as it slipped out, he felt embarrassment rush throughout his entire body. He felt so pathetic for being that turned on just from you calling him cute.

But in his defense, no one had ever called him that before.

“Even cuter when you moan” you took one look around, making sure the coast was clear before you started to unfasten the buckle on his belt.

“N-not here” His breath hitched as he weakly grabbed your wrist, almost pleading with you to stop.

“Why’s that cutie?” You asked, halting your movements on his belt.

He gulped. “Cause there’s p-people around” he looked at you with blown pupils and a hint of worry in them.

But you didn’t miss the desperation all over his features.

The deep breaths, the subtle lip bite, and the quiet whimpers that he let out let you know he wanted this right here, right now, just as bad as you did.

“Then what do you suggest? cause, judging by the looks of it” you looked down at his cock that twitched under the confines of his pants. “This can’t wait” you ran your hand over his tent.

You could visibly see the moment he let go of all his inhibitions. You couldn’t help but smirk at the effect you had on him.

You were right.

He couldn’t wait and he knew it. he needed this. He needed it so bad that when he took one look around and saw that no one was in the vicinity of you two, he nodded his head, giving you the green light to continue, just praying that he wouldn’t regret this decision later on.

And god, did he hate himself for being so easily persuaded by you. Just like that, you were once again making him throw all his morals straight out the window, but the worst part was that he didn’t even care, and he blamed his stupid virgin dick for that.

“Just be a good boy and keep quiet for me yeah?” You undid the button on his slacks, and he couldn’t help but get excited at the sound of you pulling down his zip.

With a final nod of his head, You didn’t waste any more time and began palming him over his Calvin Klein boxers.

As soon as you touched him, he let out a shaky breath, and you could have sworn you saw his whole body shiver.

You turned to the side placing kisses on his neck, licking and sucking wherever you could reach.

He brought a hand up to loosen his tie, and you’re not sure if he did it cause it was getting too tight or if he did it to give you more access to kiss him either way, you took that as an invitation to leave dark marks on his newly exposed flesh.

“Y-you never told me your n-name,” he said breathlessly. Even with as out of it as he already was, he couldn’t miss yet another opportunity to learn more about you.

When you removed your hand from inside his pants, he panicked, thinking he had said something wrong, but he was in no way ready for what you were about to do next. “S-sorry, I-I didn’t mean to offen-” you cut him off as you grabbed his cheeks in both your palms so you could bring him in for a kiss.

When you pulled away, his eyes were blown wide open, and you had to wonder if he could be any cuter.

“I’m y/n.”

You answered your own question just moments later.

Yes, he could be cuter, way cuter, in fact, as he did his best to kiss you while you worked your hand up and down his length.

Although, in reality, he just had his mouth open while you did the rest, but how could you complain when it allowed you to swallow every one of his pretty little moans and whimpers?

“Y/n,” he whined into the kiss when you squeezed his base, his brain had become too foggy to even comprehend anything but your name and the way your hand felt stroking his dick.

His head fell limply on your shoulder as he struggled to watch you jerk him off under the confines of his boxers.

He felt just as good as you remembered, thick, long, and hot to the touch.

“Spit,” you instructed while slowing down the pace of your hand.

“Okay,” he whined and obediently lifted his head from your shoulder, gathering a glob of saliva in his mouth and spitting it onto his tip.

“Good boy” he looked up slowly and met your eyes with his hooded ones moaning at the praise that rolled off your tongue.

“Hmmm,” he nodded his head in agreement, eyebrows furrowing when you spread the mixture of his precum and saliva on his shaft. “So good” he sighed in pleasure.

Any second, he was going to cum. The quiet sticky sound that came from you rubbing him up and down made heat rise to his cheeks and he couldn’t stop his slit from producing drops precum, not when your fingers massaged his tip so good.

He kept moaning your name in your ear over and over, clutching onto your thigh for support as he felt his thighs tensing and that familiar feeling he felt on the first night you two met. “What is it, pretty boy?” You hummed at the sight of his precum staining his lower abdomen, some of it even spilling into his belly button.

He just moaned in response, squeezing his legs together tightly from embarrassment.

“You gonna cum, pretty boy, is that it?” He nodded against your shoulder and moved his head to your neck, nudging softly as he thrusts his hips up to match the movement of your hand.

“Gonna cum” he breathed into your ear, and you swore it was the hottest thing you’d ever hear.

The sight in front of you had you dripping. His boxers were stained in precum shirt slightly lifted up, giving you the perfect view of his abdomen covered in his slick.

His hot, heavy breath fanning against your neck and the desperation of his hips bucking into your hand was the most beautiful sight ever. He was a complete fucked out mess.

You’ve never been with someone that was so easily worked up, and the fact that he was like this all because of you had you equally worked up, so worked up that you pulled your hand out of his boxers, drawing a whiny gasp from him as you spoiled yet another one of his orgasm.

His discontent didn’t last for more than a second as you got down on your knees under the table. He hastily looked around to ensure no one was watching and quickly pulled his pants down below his kneecaps, giving you access to his hard-on that rested on his lower tummy.

Yeah, his morals were definitely out the window.

You took him in your mouth without warning causing him to jump in his seat slightly when he felt the warmth of your mouth enveloping his rock-hard cock. “Fuck” he hissed as his eyes rolled back in his head while more barely coherent curses fell past his dry lips.

He looked under the table, watching you as you bobbed your head up and down on his cock. You sucked all the way from his tip and stopped at his base, practically swallowing him whole. “Oh fuck” he grabbed the sides of his chair, trying to ground himself.

He couldn’t seem to peel his eyes away from your lips wrapped around his shaft. He was mesmerized watching the way his cock disappeared into your mouth.

Your saliva dribbled down his shaft, creating the most obscene sounds he’s ever heard as you sucked him off.

It didn’t take long for him to get addicted to the feeling of your mouth on his dick, and no sessions with his right hand could ever compare to the pleasure you were giving him right now.

When you pulled back to take a breath, his dick was wet and glossy from your saliva. The sight made him twitch, and he got so red when you giggled at his involuntary reaction.

You placed your hands on his thighs to support yourself. You stuck out your tongue, using the tip of the wet muscle to trace the veins on his length. “Y/n, i-” he covered his face with his hands, trying so hard to hold out, but it was useless when you teasingly ran your tongue along the underside of his cock and sucked him back in. “I’m cumming” he announced with a shaky breath and let his hands fall down to his sides once more as he watched himself emptying his balls down your throat.

The way his cock felt throbbing inside your mouth brought you just a little too much satisfaction, even more satisfaction than having an orgasm of your own.

You hummed around his shaft, gagging when his cum squirted in your mouth and hit the back of your throat. “Shit!” He moaned loudly when your throat tightened on his pulsating cock, pleasuring him even more.

You made eye contact while sucking him through his orgasm he panted uncontrollably, face scrunching in overstimulation. As you felt him going limp in your mouth, you pulled off his cock and licked the corner of your lips, kissing and licking every inch of his dick, making sure not a single drop of his release was wasted. “Taste so sweet,” you hummed at his taste that lingered on your tongue.

He very timidly tucked your hair behind your ear, and the gesture alone came off as being way softer than he intended. You looked up through your fluttering lashes, and he only smiled while biting his lip before shyly looking away.

You felt a strange feeling in your stomach, but you quickly brushed it off.

He winced slightly when you pulled his boxers up and tucked him away. The dampness in his underwear felt uncomfortable and even more uncomfortable when he wore his pants and tucked his shirt back into its original state.

Without a word, you got up from your position on the floor and straightened out your clothes.

A deep sigh escaped him as he was finally coming back to reality after that mind-blowing orgasm, and unfortunately but yet so fitting for him, his throat dried up, and he couldn’t even form a proper sentence all the questions that were left lingering in his mind ever since the party were stuck on his tongue.

And just like on Halloween night, you were disappearing from his sight once more.

But at least he got your name this time, maybe if he’s lucky enough, you’ll be coming back to this same library maybe sooner than later, and maybe he’d wait every day just in case you did show up.

That’s a lot of maybe’s, but that’s all he had as he looked at the disheveled notes that were now long forgotten about cause he was too busy thinking about you.

Taglist: @cha0thicpisces @07jkez

Permanent taglist:®• @hello-stranger24 @ashxsmoon @lhsggg @scarlet127 @bunhoons @axartia @kpopscruggles @badidealy @heeseungleeworld @jayroseyy @bangchanhasbigfeet @duolingofanaccount @oceanyocean @woonie-muffin @hee-in @heesgirl @bambisgirl @heeaddict @heartandfangs @nyxtwixx

Thank you so much for reading. Likes and reblogs are always appreciated. I hope you all enjoy. Sorry for any typos/errors, and as always, enjoy your day/night.🖤🤍

[gottagetback2u]

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 JOBS THAT WOULD FIT STRAY KIDS MEMBERS

these are all specific stores!!! most of these are american stores (i think?) so sorry if they are unfamiliar!! i may or may not have worked at these places before…

BATH AND BODY WORKS

-LEE KNOW!

-chan

-felix

-changbin

what do u mean when u tell me lee know has never stepped foot inside a bath and body works before?? HE IS MADE FOR IT OMG. the apron tied around his waist, his pretty visuals literally drawing customers in. people would actually take the scent testers from him. imagine asking for recommendations and him leading u around the store, calling out scents by name and their “floral, dark, clean” notes. his favorite scent is definitely a spring scent like book loft or a classic like crisp morning air. ALSO imagine his shy, working voice when asking people for their rewards number and then going to the back, rolling his eyes and immediately complaining. made for the job. he’s perfect.

chan and felix are also great fits! they would definitely be a lil too knowledgeable (thanks to sisters and genuine interest). imagine asking for recommendations for scents and felix whips out gingham gorgeous (aka one of the strongest, clean scent with floral). my wonderful body care men :’]

let’s be honest. changbin in an apron. that’s it.

BARNES & NOBLE

-hyunjin

-seungmin

u mean to tell me these nerds wouldn’t apply for barnes & noble at least four times? (honestly, it seems like they’re always hiring then never hire lmao)

hyunjin definitely likes the “quiet” vibe of the workplace. it’s definitely not always quiet, but being surrounded by books and drawing when he has no customers at the help desk is nice. he likes roaming around and looking at new journals, stationary, popular authors, etc. he doesn’t always read, but if the book seems popular enough he will get it to try it out! also, hyunjin dressed as a nerd with his eyebrow piercing and dyed hair. sHEEESSHH that’s the death of me.

ur probably wondering why seungmin isn’t the first name. he is literally the member that ppl said his room was “boring” bc of all the books and that he probably studies for fun. BUT, i don’t think he would necessarily like it as a job? he likes to keep his interests and hobbies to himself, so constantly recommending books or seeing others buy an author he absolutely hated might not be his favorite. although, some days he walks in and is GRATEFUL that he chose this over any other mall job. some days it’s his escape. bookworm 4L.

TARGET

-han

-jeongin

-changbin

han as a target worker is literally canon at this point. lets be honest, he would be a perfect fit. he would wear the same red zip up jacket ever shift, no matter is he’s doing shipment orders or register. mans just wants to be comfy and make money. but in all seriousness!! he likes the people he works with and enjoys how organized everything is. less to get confused and overwhelmed by.

u could find jeongin either at target or ur local grocery store. he just fits the grocery store worker vibe so well. don’t know how to explain.

changbin in a target is something i never thought about but it would work so well? imagine him at the customer service desk asking for ur card information for a refund. like how does it seem so normal???

BEST BUY

-CHANGBIN!!

-felix

first person i thought of for best buy. changbin. he just seems like such a lil dork when thinking about it?? ur telling me he wouldn’t giggle and act flustered when u thought the iphone 15 and 15 max were the same thing? he would. u know he would.

felix just works and we all know it. his mom definitely made him apply bc of his love for PCs and he kinda just got the job. loves doing tech things!! (but hates how rude some of the customers are :[)

TILLY’S

-chan

-jeongin

-han

for those who don’t know, tilly’s is kinda like an alternative skater/surfer clothing store! like beach clothes for skaters… if that makes sense…

from past experience of working here, chan just fits the manager role so well. diligent when working and so nice?? customers never feel overlooked when talking to him, all workers respect and like him, and he does amazing at his job! another thing that fits him so well is how tired he is :(( tillys puts their managers to workkk i am telling u.

jeongin would feel a lil outcasted when working here, cuz he never expected to work at a mall store??, but he likes it pretty much. he likes being on fitting room duty the most bc he could be on his phone most of the time. but he would DREAD if he was called to be on register bc he always forgets to take the security tags off.

han would fit right in. a lil… too good. he’s there for that employee discount and the limited nike clothes that get put out. would always want to be on register so time goes by faster. once again, he’s there for that check.

[hetaologist]

APH America "Ethnography" and Headcanons (SFW)

The United States of America, Alfred F. Jones, Mr. Stars and Stripes, 'Merica, Pretty Boy, um... or just simply America.

Here is a list of data I have gathered from this country and oh boy, what an interesting specimen we have here....

Ethnography

You will find this find this mythological creature at your local Walmart superstore during the evening hours on a weekday, sporting flannel loungewear pants (The plaid kind), a cotton t-shirt that definitely has been worn no less than two (2) times, Old Navy $1 flip flops, and a gray jacket.

When asked about his late night runs to the popular supermarket chain, his answer is just simply:

"There's nothing else to do and no where to go."

America's Cart Inventory for March 22nd:

One (1) package of "Mega Stuf Chocolate Oreos" for $5.97, One (1) 6-Pack of "Starbucks Frappuccino Chilled Coffee Drinks" in Caramel Flavor for $7.98, One (1) Family Sized Bag of "Flaming Hot Cheetos" for $5.94, One (1) "Furby Interactive Toy" for $39.19, and One (1) Stick of " Axe Apollo Men's Deodorant Stick" for $4.97. Total of purchase was $64.05 before tax.

When questioned about the "Furby Interactive Toy", he replies:

"Yeah dude, there's this thing I wanna make that's called a "Long Furby". Wanna come by my place and check it out?"

I agreed to the invination as it would give me a better look into his living space and lifestyle. He's very friendly person.

Living Space (Home):

Oh dear god, why did I agree to come here?

House is a what you would expect from a typical American college student such as:

"Saturdays Are For The Boys" banner flag, Marvel and DC posters, a very unsettling looking blue leather couch that looks like it has been through hell and back, random dumbbells and untouched exercise equipment, every game console from the 1972 "The Magnavox Odyssey" to the PS5, action figures from various popular TV shows and comics, an old KFC bucket with half eaten chicken on the coffee table and a shelf with a huge vinyl record and CD collection.

Conclusion: What a fucking gross nerd.

America offers a cold can of Coca-Cola, I accept it.

He shows me a very long light blue "Long Furby" from his collection, further proving how much of a dork he was.

When asked what kind of music he liked (in regards to his music collection), he replies:

"That's hard to answer, it changes every week. Because of my diverse music, I pretty much like everything. One week I could be listening to 1980's classic rock, 2000's techno-pop, Bluegrass Country, 1990's Hip Hop or anything. But, if I had to give you this week's favorite artist, it would have to be Taylor Swift and Doja Cat."

"Interesting..." I replied.

I have recorded enough data for today (the smell was bothering me) and left his home to do further extensive research.

Headcanons:

America has a deep love for cars and trucks, he can be seen working on his vintage 1968 Dodge Charger R/T called 'Thunderbird' (an absolute speed demon that can reach at top speeds of muthafuckin' 156 mph), and his enormous 2019 Ford F-150 'Big John' that he loves to drive to world meetings because he is a total stud muffin showoff.

Oh yeah, he defiantly modded 'Big John' horns with airblasters. So when he parks his car and he sees other nations come out of their vehicles, he pounds on that horn and scares the living shit out of them.

He totally does 2 am donuts in the Thunderbird the front of Walmart parking lots with his brother Canada to freak him out.

Other than seeing him work on his cars while listening to "Waking Up in Vegas by Katy Perry" on the radio, he's in his room sorting out his action figure and comic book collection.

Damn, what what a geek.

He has an eBay account where he buys, trades and auctions his collection as his interests constantly change.

If you think him being a geek, dork and a nerd is gonna save him from getting a basic ass Stanley cup, you're wrong.

He has a navy blue one that he takes to meetings and he would get dirty looks from the other nations.

"Goddamn it America, you do not need that much coffee."

"Fuck you, you scone sucking twink. It's not coffee, it's the Panera Super Charged Lemonade mixed with Redbull."

"I beg your fucking pardon..."

He gave Canada a red one for his birthday that he also takes with him to meetings.

"Canada, mon ami~. That better not be that merde American drinks that makes your heart explode."

"No, it's Tim Hortons iced coffee."

"Well.. that's better than what America drinks..."

[mlarayoukai]

I'M NOT GATEKEEPING but people are like hehe I like cute nerds too :3 Those are great but I want dorks. Geeks. Guy who still carries his 3ds in 2024 in his cargo shorts. Guy who leaves his house once a month to play card games at the local game store. Guy who can barely make direct eye contact. Guy who unironically goes "um actually". Definitely out of shape and low vitamin d. Horrible fashion sense, owns 10 graph tees with Nintendo licenses. And by God. His ass has Astigmatism. I could and can go on

[tessa-quayle]

FanFiction Recommendations

before I disclose my favorite Pedro Pascal character-related fan fiction here, a few caveats and disclosed biases: I’m a woman of a certain age.  I was your average English lit major.  I’m the dork who - upon listening to Jewel’s debut album and hearing the lyric “you can be Henry Miller and I’ll be Anais Nin” in the mid 1990s  - legit hauled my ass to the local public library and looked up Anais Nin - using the Dewey Decimal system - to read her elevated smut.  Right now I’m a content but exhausted, ragey American woman in a mid-life crisis.  I hate bullshit, I have an ok attention span, I scroll/read after the family’s gone to bed.  

if you look at my semi-neglected Tumblr page, you’ll see I’m relatively new to the Pedro fandom.  What a privilege to dive into really superb writing.  This is clearly not an exhaustive list and reflects my tastes (and to each her/his/their own)!  But if you’re an exhausted parent in a mid-life crisis and have no time, this may be for you! 

in no particular order...

@fuckyeahdindjarin - masterlist - Cee describes herself as a writer who pens romantic comedies - and she does a stellar job with them - but she sells herself short and fails to mention the sex scenes she writes are hot.  especially love the consent series (dieter bravo), the grays 2-part series (frankie morales), and of course, the ongoing joel miller/pin series.  a delightful mix of angst, sweetness, spice.  and a thoughtful writer with an inclusive mindset. 

@absurdthirst - masterlist - if you told me Keri has a few stories published in several “best of erotica” anthologies, I’d believe you.  good smut is fucking hard to write.  this is great smut.  this is smut you read and then take a cold shower afterwards or do whatever it is you like to do to get yourself off.  it’s smut that even as a non-smoker and knowing all the terrible health risks you may think goddamn I need a cigarette.  I'm partial to a few Javier Pena and Agent Whiskey pieces, but you’d be satisfied reading any of her stories.

@something-tofightfor - masterlist - Rachael should give a master class on how to write the best slow burn.  Her Joel Miller stories stand out for several reasons including - 1) she thoughtfully incorporates elements of the original canon/game into her fanfic which is uncommon in the PP fandom (from what I’ve seen/read at least), 2) every Joel story/chapter is compelling and well imagined.  Her current series on Tim Rockford has me on the edge of my seat and I'm eagerly awaiting the next installment.  And judging from the titles of her stories, we have similar music tastes (ha!). 

@disgruntledspacedad - this writer hasn’t updated in several months, but their Javier Pena multi-chapter fic (and folks, there are MANY out there) called Better Love is the one that kept me going and going and wanting to read more (see mention of short attention span in a tired mama above).  being in the healthcare field, I also arch my eyebrows out of curiosity when someone weaves medical stuff into their writing and wonder what line of work they do.  (yes I'm a terribly biased nerd, I’m a sucker for when someone puts a f!physician reader into their PP-character related drabble).

@jomiddlemarch - she is a great friend and a gifted, amazing writer who always makes me wonder “how does she do this and how does she do this so well and so quickly while the rest of us plebes are just getting through our day.”  she writes for MULTIPLE fandoms (and judging from the notes on her posts, I think her readership is more into those than Pedro and the Last of Us but it’s ok!), and started writing Joel Miller and an OFC (she created!) named Grace Yang (NOT ME - but maybe there’s a chance she created this OFC to shut me up since I’ve been rambling on and on about how besotted I am with Pedro 😂).  If you’re into OFCs, read her stuff.  Check out the (ongoing) entire series on her AO3 here.  Here’s one story that you can find on her Tumblr.  Two of the five stories are Ted Lasso crossovers - all her stories are written so richly and so layered - she’s the star in your writing workshop who’s showing and not telling - I’m still thinking about how there’s so much to unpack in the latest one. :) 

[your-friendly-neighbourh00d-fag]

seeing as you are a fellow mcr enjoyer i have a question for you of the utmost importance: do you think mike wheeler would like mcr or not

OHOHOHOHO YOU SHOULD NOT HAVE ASKED ME THAT. you just need to know beforehand before i am doing the answering of this uestion that i am ooo osooooo normal about this topic. trust me. the most normal

ok.

he absolutely likes mcr are you kidding me look at this man

he's struggling with his mental health, he's struggling with his sexuality, he's idolising a dude with long hair, piercings and pronouns, he's trying to be more metal. it's right there. plus the fact that he is just like me fr fr so i am going like this

and giving him all of my interests + autism (BECAUSE I SAID SO)

so. the question is, what's his favourite album. what's his favourite song. which one of the members does he have a crush on. does he read the killjoys comics. does he listen to summertime at 4am and cry and think about will. ("the song as a whole is about those people you meet who pull you out of your sleep, and make you wake up to real life, the good, beautiful things...")

i think mike would have a contentious relationship with bullets, it took him a long time to get as into it as the other albums, one week its his favourite, one week he hates it etc etc. his all time favourite album is three cheers and he actually told me that himself so idc. black parade is a very close second though, and disenchanted will always make him feel feelings.

favourite songs from all the albums: Our Lady of Sorrows and and Honey This Mirror and Headfirst for Halos (<< ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME IT IS SO HIM) and a smidge of Demolition Lovers. as a treat.

Give Em Hell Kid (BFFR!!!!), The Ghost Of You (another one that makes him feel The Feelings and will get an emotional reaction always. UM SEASON ONE??) and Cemetery Drive.

I Dont Love You, Disenchanted, and Teenagers absolutely. (are you fucking kidding me??? the most mike wheeler songs EVER and i will die on this hill nobody TOUCH ME),

Save Yourself, I'll Hold Them Back (his self sacrificing instincts are showing), S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W (at first he hates it, but after he reads up on the lore and the whole TTLOTFK thing he gets way into it), and Planetary, for no reason other than it sounds great 👍

EDIT: Conweap his favourite overall is cw5 and his fav songs are Burn Bright, The World Is Ugly and AMBULANCE

he absolutely looked at gerard way and said i need that man's gender RIGHT NOW and was just absolutely in awe of all his tour outfits and woke will up in the middle of the night to show him a video of cheerard with a flamethrower. that was a big 'wait i can dress less masculine if i want to??' thing and helped him find his personal style i think. and i also think. he has a n eeensy weensy teeny little crush. on gerbar. shh.

also.

look at this dork.

this absolute cringefail loser.

this nerdy nerd nerd.

the absolute second that mike finds out there's a comic that inspired danger days, he s p r i n t s to the local bookstore and cleans them out immediately. he binge reads them for like two nights straight and wakes will up constantly because look look LOOK WHAT HAPPENED WILL NO YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND THEY-- he then spends the next month entrenched in killjoy lore and ends up with posters up all around his and will's apartment like this

trying to figure out the universe. (he also writes fanfiction but nobody tell 🤫)

anyway. this is a. bit of a long post and as you can tell from my introduction i am so so so so normal about mike wheeler, mcr, and my precious little headcanons.

tldr: yes he would love mcr and no one can take that away from me.

[johnnyutah]

i finally finished this old wip for @stonathanweek (and coincidentally also @stoncyweek2023!)

prompts: canon-verse (day 5), long distance relationship (day 7) summary: Steve comes up with an awesome plan to make Nancy jealous. It backfires in the best way. rating: explicit ships: stonathan, stoncy, established jonathan/nancy, past steve/nancy (and future? 😳) steve and robin being best bros word count: 5660 content info: drinking, phone sex, miscommunication, smut & feelings, pre-polyamory, set before season 4

Also on AO3!

The front door of Family Video slams shut on yet another failed attempt at flirting, and Steve’s head falls into his hands yet a-fuckin-gain. “This is it, Robin,” he declares, elbows digging into the cheap melamine counter and fingertips digging into his temples just above his furrowed brows. “This is it. We’ve got no prospects.”

“That isn’t true,” Robin, the light of his life, tells him, soft and kind-hearted as ever. She pats his shoulder and goes on to correct him, “You’ve got no prospects. I’m just in the wrong city for love; you’re on the wrong planet.”

“The wrong p— you’re a real asshole, you know that?” Steve glances up from between his fingers just to check that she knows that. Robin’s sweet smile doesn’t falter for a moment, confirming her own theory. He’s sure that if they did live in another place, or perhaps another time, Robin could have a girlfriend in no time at all. Steve, however, is doomed. “What am I supposed to do with that, huh? I can’t exactly set off to Mars.”

“You could try changing it up,” Robin suggests. It’s the third time this week she’s suggested that he change. He’s starting to feel like she might mean it. “Instead of ‘ahoy, ladies’…”

She scrunches up her nose, thinking. Steve rests his chin on his knuckles and watches her. “Ahoy… fellas?”

“Ha-ha.” Robin pushes his shoulder again, this time not to comfort but to chastise. “I meant maybe coming up with a different approach.”

“I don’t do the Scoops routine anymore.”

“Right, you’ve switched to local video store geek recommending all your favorite flicks.”

“Geek! I’m not a geek! What about this,” Steve gestures up and down his body with broad, sweeping motions that draw out a flurry of giggles from Robin, “says geek?!”

“Like, all of it,” she laughs. “Every part of it. The hair? Dork. The smile? Total nerd smile— see, look, you’re offended but you’re smiling!”

Through his not-smile, Steve hisses, “What am I supposed to do about my smile? I’m freaking screwed!”

“Calm down, you’ll be fine!” It’s hard to take Robin’s consolation seriously as she struggles not to laugh. Some consternation must show on his face as she finally relents, wiping an eye dry before leaning away, and repeating, “You’ll be fine. You’ve got plenty of time to work out the new Harrington act anyway, and in the meantime, you’ve got good friends who look out for you.”

“I thought you said Dustin and the gang were annoying little kids.”

“God, I meant me, you dick!” This time he’s ready for the blow to his shoulder and he dodges it effortlessly, ducking under the slap and then swatting it away. It’s a good thing Keith left right away after his morning shift, as he hates when they squabble like this in the front end of the store. Not that there are any customers. Steve has apparently frightened them all away with his utter and total lack of charisma. Fantastic.

After he loses— quite badly, really, Robin, where was this killer physique and athleticism when they were being held hostage by enemies of the state— and they resume their work, Steve doesn’t put up much of a pretense of actually working, far too distracted by his foreboding future. The loneliness gnaws at him deeply, scraping down to his marrow until he starts fidgeting, uncomfortable with his own turbulent emotion.

Robin hadn’t meant it, and god knows she’s got it worse than he does, but… it does suck, not having someone and not seeming able to find anyone. Even when things were bad with Nancy there had still been things. And before her, when Tommy and Carol had dragged him to each and every party like a prized stud ready for the auction, he had felt wanted. He can’t remember when he last felt wanted.

Before he can voice this pathetic thought to Robin, she sighs, taking obvious pity on him. “You have any plans tonight?”

“Take a wild guess,” Steve grumbles.

Unaffected, she continues, “Sooo… my parents went to this big Christmas party last weekend, and they brought home these two huge gift baskets they apparently won in some raffle. And one of the baskets had some bourbon, and, um, I don’t really know anything about drinking, so, I… uh, I brought it, and I thought maybe it’d be fun if we. Drank it.”

Steve twists to stare at her incredulously. No part of the story makes even a lick of sense— what kind of parents let their eighteen-year-old daughter drink liquor freely? What kind of parents bring gifts home without occasion or cause? Who throws a Christmas party in January? Baffled, he echoes, “You brought it?”

“I brought it,” Robin confirms.

“In… what, in your backpack?”

“Yeah, in my backpack.” Both of them glance at the staff area, and she says, “What, you don’t want to? If you don’t want to, it’s—”

“Hold on, they just let you have it?”

“They don’t drink.”

“Well… what kind of bourbon is it?”

“I have no clue, doofus. I don’t drink.”

“Never?”

“I’ve never had anyone to drink with.” This confession lingers in the air for a heavy moment— not necessarily a bad one, but it weighs them both down, together. Then Robin coughs, and changes tack, “What types of bourbon are there?”

Steve doesn’t actually know. He’s not sure that he’s actually ever tried bourbon. It sounds both quaintly Southern and exorbitant, but the likely high price tag only adds to the allure. “Alright, we’ll just have to make sure we don’t leave anything for Keith to catch onto us. Guy would flip his freaking lid. But… we could try a glass, or two.”

“Neat,” Robin grins, eyes practically sparkling. “Yeah, I probably won’t have more than a sip.”

--

Steve sits— well, crashes— down onto the counter beside Robin. His legs dangle over the edge, while she keeps hers crossed. “I think I lost my voice,” he tells her, and in response she passes— well, slams— the bottle into his hand. “No, Robin, I’m serious, I think I sang too hard.”

“They’re making another one of these.” She points, and Steve follows her gaze to the TV set up in the corner over Comedies and International, which is currently playing The Evil Dead, but set to the soundtrack of the album Steve has been blasting over the Family Video intercom. “With the same director and everything. I bet it’ll be terrible; sequels always are.”

“Not true,” croaks Steve. He drinks the bourbon. It tastes a little better with every sip, although it still mostly tastes like he’s hiding in a cleaning closet and drinking heavy acid instead of hanging out with his friend and drinking actual good liquor. If this is good liquor, he thinks he’ll stick to cheap beer. “Dawn of the Dead.”

“Remake, not a sequel.”

“No way, it’s a sequel.” Steve passes the bottle back, massaging his throat. “Zombies and shit.” AC/DC comes to the end of howling ‘Back in Black’, thank God, no more falsetto— and the tape switches to ‘You Shook Me All Night Long’. He starts tapping his heels against the counter to the rhythm. 

On screen, Ash’s buddy Scotty shoves one of the zombified girls away with an ax. Robin watches. Steve grimaces. Scotty swears his head off on mute. Brian Johnson wails, “She was the best damn woman that I ever seen!”

“I love women,” Robin sighs, deep and emotional.

“Me too,” agrees Steve fervently.

“And I don’t hate bourbon.”

“Me either.” He reaches for the bottle and she takes a sip before sharing; it burns when it hits his already scratchy throat. Scotty locks the zombie in the basement. Robin reaches back for the bottle. The confession squeezes out before Steve can think any better of it: “I miss Nancy.”

“Oh my god.”

“I mean it—”

“I know you do—”

“I love her, Robin.”

“Oh My God.”

“Listen,” Steve says, hopping off the counter with grace and precision. He completely misjudges the distance between them and the floor, and ends up crash-landing hard; but at least he doesn’t fall over. Robin laughs harder than she needs to as he steadies himself. “Listen. She was my best damn… the best girlfriend that I’ve ever had. And I was so stupid to her. And she left me.”

“I thought she left because she didn’t have feelings for you anymore.”

“Could you just—” Steve flails for a moment, trying not to throttle his best friend and also trying to sort through his drunk thoughts to find the words he needs. “Yes. Okay. That may be true. But feelings come and go!”

“Fine,” says Robin reluctantly. “But, and I hate to put a damper on your drunken dreams of winning her back, but! In this case, Nancy has already moved on to someone else… right?”

Steve snaps his fingers. Jonathan— of course! That’s why that stupid horror movie seemed so familiar; he remembers seeing the freaky poster hung up in Jonathan’s room from when he and Nancy and Jonathan had fought off the Demogorgon the first time around. Steve hasn’t thought about Jonathan in a while, which seems odd given that he used to waste so much time thinking about the guy. Even before their team-up— actually, especially before they had teamed up, he had a penchant for watching the weird Byers kid. “Right,” he exclaims. “Yeah, yes! She’s moved on!”

“So,” says Robin, with the patience of a schoolteacher. “Don’t you think it’s time that you move on too?”

“Totally,” he agrees, catching her off-guard. “Yes. I’m gonna make her so jealous.”

When he looks over, Robin is fully chugging the bourbon. Steve snatches the bottle away, laughing somewhat maniacally— except not at all, this is awesome, he has a totally awesome plan.

Step one is get on the work computer and misuse his employee privilege as a Family Video store clerk. When he fails to type in his password correctly a third time, Robin sighs, finally hopping down from the counter. “I want it on record that this is a bad idea,” she declares, typing in her password anyway before heading to the back room. Steve takes advantage of her absence to quickly scan through their alphabetized account list. Thankfully Byers, J. is close to the top. 

He scrawls the phone number down on the back of an empty receipt as Robin closes down the store— beginning with the music, then the lights. They are left alone with only the computer, which Steve quickly shuts off, and the television, which Robin misplaced the remote for. Neither of them can find it in the dark and so they leave Ash and friends to face their inevitable demise at the hands of the zombie demons. It won’t be the worst close they’ve ever done, and Steve refuses to believe that Keith’s opinion of him could sink any lower.

Robin grabs the nearly empty bottle, shoving it into her backpack. Steve grabs his jacket, pulling it on with a wince as they step out of the store into the January night air. “It’s too cold to drive, and I’m too drunk to walk,” says Robin, arms already tightly folded over her chest but teeth not quite chattering yet. “I mean… no, wait, maybe that is what I mean.”

“I got this,” Steve assures her. It’s then that Robin notices the receipt, and lunges for it. Maybe if Steve had full control of his faculties he would be able to hold it out of her reach. She snatches the paper and Steve moans, “Aw, c’mon, give it back! You’re messing up my whole plan!”

“Your plan to get back with your ex by making her jealous? Oh my god, you’re serious.” Robin laughs, shoving the receipt back at him. Her grin is too wide and goofy to cause any real hurt, especially when her eyes crinkle up in the corners and she teases, “Look at that, Harrington! You finally got a girl’s number.”

Steve, smiling back, doesn’t correct her.

--

The only cab in Hawkins surely isn’t the only cab in Hawkins, but it feels that way as they drive down the otherwise dormant city streets. Most people, Steve reckons, don’t stay up late drinking with their coworkers on a cold weeknight in January. Or if they do, they probably go to a bar close to their office downtown, or even a nightclub.

In the backseat of the only cab in Hawkins, Steve and Robin lean against each other like siblings on a road trip, slouched together thanks to the late hour and all the drinking. He’s sure they smell like shit but they feel amazing, smacking each other’s arms to point out passing landmarks or giggling about the music on the radio. The driver hasn’t commented, leaving them to their own devices as they joke about how they feel like New Yorkers, or like superstars. 

The taxi drops Robin off outside her home first, and she leans over to give Steve a bourbon-soaked hug. He relishes in it, trying to remember the last time he got a hug from anyone. Hell, it was probably Robin, and before that, he has no clue. Dustin has been busy with his new Dungeons and Dragons group, and Lucas and Mike were never big on hugs anyway. So he hugs back, still laughing at Robin’s terrible Bronx accent, and as he does she whispers, “You got this, dingus.”

“Thanks,” Steve whispers back, feeling tipsy and joyful and supported— until he realizes that she meant he’s the one on the hook for paying the taxi driver. He settles back into his own seat to sulk.

On the radio, REO Speedwagon choruses, “I’ve forgotten what I started fighting for; it’s time to bring this ship into the shore, and throw away the oars, forever…” and the driver hums along.

Steve’s hand finds its way into his jacket pocket, where his fist closes around Jonathan’s number.

--

“Hey,” Steve nearly sings, as soon as the call goes through. “Hi. Sorry, I— I know it’s late,” which is technically true, even if he has no idea what time it actually is. But based on the moonlight streaming through the window in the kitchen, he’s breaking several social rules. “I just… It’s, um, it’s Steve. Harrington, in case, uh, you know any other Steves…?”

A woman answers. The receiver slips right out of Steve’s hands and he curses modern, cordless technology, fumbling to grab it before he drops the phone, or worse, the call. “… afraid I don’t know any Steves at all. Can I help you, young man?”

“Oh, shit.” The woman inhales sharply, and Steve’s mind supplements an image of Byers, Joyce. Shit. Of course. “I’m sorry, uh, I’m calling for Jonathan? If he’s even home?”

Sounding much less friendly, the woman pauses. “I don’t know who you mean, but this is a new number. If you’re trying to reach the Byers family—”

“Yes, exactly, yeah, Jonathan Byers—”

“They don’t live here anymore.” Steve crumples up the paper and tosses it, furiously, into the sink. “I have their forwarding number, if it’s very important…?”

“It’s urgent,” Steve assures her, scrambling to find something to write on. He ends up grabbing his father’s fountain pen and writing Jonathan’s new number painfully across the back of his hand.

After apologizing and wishing the wrong number a good night, Steve stares at those messy, ink-blotted digits. Before he can give himself cold feet, he dials the number; he doesn’t breathe once the whole time it rings.

The line picks up again. This time Steve is more cognizant that it might be Joyce, or even worse, Will— the kid would definitely recognize his voice, and while Steve is sure that Jonathan’s impossibly kind younger brother would support him in this late-night endeavor, he’s also sure that Mike Wheeler would definitely hear about it. Which would ruin the entire scheme, of course.

The scheme, which seemed so infallible back at Family Video, swims and wavers in his head now. Steve tries to go through the plan point by point, but it all falls to pieces when a groggy, familiar voice says through the receiver, “Hello?”

“Hey,” Steve says. He leans against the kitchen island, exhaling all the air in his lungs. “Hi. It’s Steve. … Harrington.”

“I only know one Steve,” Jonathan says, dry as a desert. Steve smiles nervously. “Why are you calling? Is something wrong?”

“No, no, all quiet on the Western front.” This nets him a chuckle from Jonathan, so he soldiers on: “I was just wondering, you know, uh… if you wanted to come over?”

Puzzled, Jonathan asks bluntly, “What? Why?”

“I was thinking about you,” says Steve, leaning into it hard. He has charisma, or at least, he once did— he knows how to do this part. “Thinking maybe you could come over and we could fool around.”

Nobody has ever hung up so fast.

Steve stares at the dead phone in his hand. He wonders about the vicious gossip that he’d heard back in high school about Jonathan Byers, that he was more than just weird and a loner. Maybe those rumors really were nothing but rumors spread by small-minded townies. Steve’s parents aren’t home. It would be so easy for him to break into his father’s liquor cabinet. He could probably knock himself out within the hour, and sleep off this whole bad idea. He could laugh about it with Robin tomorrow night at work— I wanted to do what last night? I got some girl’s phone number out of the system? Man, no, I went straight home and went to bed. On an unrelated topic, I need to update the contact information on the Byers file.

Steve presses the redial button.

It rings for a little longer this time, and he can just picture Jonathan deciding whether or not to pick up, leaning over his own kitchen counter with a vein jumping out of his forehead behind his messy, home-cut bangs. Sure enough, when the call does get picked up, Jonathan sounds even more stressed than usual. He demands, “Is this a joke?”

If he’s wrong, and Jonathan’s not that type of person, and he tells Nancy… Steve shakes off the doomed train of thought. “No,” he says, firmly. “Not a joke.” 

Jonathan swears softly, so soft that Steve was sure he wasn’t meant to hear it, then: “Are you drunk?”

“Well, yeah,” he admits. Jonathan sighs loud enough to nearly blow the speaker. “What about you?”

“No.” A pause. “I think I should probably be a lot less sober for this.”

“That’s the spirit,” Steve cheers. “Where are you? Can you come over?”

Just as he’s starting to get butterflies, Jonathan cuts through the excitement with a deadpan, “California.”

“California?” He squints at the number on his hand. Is eight-one-eight the area code for California? “What the fuck? Is Nancy there with you?”

“Um.” A very pregnant pause. “No?”

“What… are you… Are you on vacation?”

Once more, Jonathan sighs. “What do you want, Steve?”

“I told you,” he replies, and even to his own ears he sounds bitchy. He adjusts, softening his tone a bit. “Just wanna make you feel good, Jonathan. I’ve been thinking about it.”

“You haven’t exactly kept in touch,” Jonathan retorts, although his voice sounds different now. Steve listens keenly but he can’t hear anything else on the line except the complaining. “I mean, you thought I still lived in Hawkins, and I’ve been gone this whole school year.”

“Well, we’re not exactly friends,” Steve parrots back. That shuts the other boy up alright. “Doesn’t mean I don’t think about you.”

“Steve—”

“Even tonight, hanging out with a friend, I was thinking about you. Should’ve been thinking about girls. I was thinking about you.” Steve frowns. “You and stupid Ashley Williams.”

“Listen,” tries Jonathan. “You’re just drunk—”

“Even back when we were in school together I would think about you,” he admits, low. “Why do you think I gave you such a hard time? I heard what everyone said about you. Couldn’t get it out of my head. It wasn’t the first time I heard that someone could be… like that, but it was the first time I saw a boy and thought that I might be like that.”

What had the scheme been again? Call Nancy Wheeler’s queer boyfriend, rile him up a little? Get him to tell Nancy about it and make her all jealous? What is his endgame here, because only boys who like boys talk to boys about the things he’s talking to Jonathan about right now— and Jonathan isn’t even really reciprocating.

The soft breath is the only sign of life from California. Steve closes his eyes, swaying against the kitchen counter. “And I was so, so fucking stupid back then. That’s how I lost Nance, and that’s how come I treated you like… just like garbage. I broke your stupid camera, and I pushed you around, and when people gave you a hard time I didn’t say shit. I basically made your life hell.”

“You bought me a new camera,” says Jonathan quietly.

“Aw, c’mon, Nance.” Steve grimaces. “That was supposed to be a secret.”

“And I wasn’t the best person back then either. I mean, I can’t think about how I acted in junior high without dying a little bit on the inside. But… um… doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate it,” Jonathan tells him, in that same quiet voice. Steve wonders if he’s trying to stay quiet so he doesn’t wake up his family. Even when Jonathan had repulsed Steve, he’d always been secretly jealous of the closeness of the Byers clan. “And… uh, all that stuff you said, um… I used to think about it too. About… you and Nancy, mostly. It was wrong, I know, and—”

Steve interrupts, “Was it?” He sounds as wild as he feels. “Was it wrong?”

“Um…”

“You home alone, Jonathan?”

“I, uh.” Now there is a rustling on the other side of the line. “Will and El are at a sleepover camp thing for school, and my mom’s working nights this week at this temporary… um… Are we really— I mean, are you really…”

Steve hums. “I’m home alone. Didn’t even ask where my parents are, and they didn’t volunteer the information. But it means I’ve got this big place all to myself.”

Shallowly, Jonathan sucks in air. “Where are you?”

“The kitchen.”

That shocks a surprised laugh out of the other boy, which in turn makes Steve smile bashfully. “You can’t— you can’t have phone sex in the kitchen,” he scolds Steve. “People make food in there! Go to your bedroom, you fucking freak.”

“Look who’s suddenly an expert on phone sex,” Steve teases.

He goes anyway, heading slowly and normally towards the second floor until Jonathan casually drops, “Well, I have been in a long-distance relationship since September.”

Steve trips up the stairs, dropping the phone for the second time tonight. When he picks it up Jonathan is still there, breathing just as softly. Steve takes the rest of the stairs four at a time. He lunges for his bed and collapses there like a dead weight, still wearing his work clothes. Shit, he’s still wearing his shoes. He hears soft laughter coming down the line and, embarrassed about his heavy breathing, demands hotly, “You and Nancy have phone sex?”

“It would be pretty hard to have any other kind of sex two thousand miles apart.” That dry humor is doing terrible, insane things to his body right now. Steve chews his lip, closes his eyes, and fumbles with the button on his jeans. “So you get pretty good at discussing, and imagining. And waiting.”

“The first two sound alright.”

“Waiting can be fun too,” Jonathan tells him gently; his voice is so soft and low that Steve doesn’t realize he’s being seduced until his pulse has already risen. “But, yeah, talking is Nancy’s big thing. … I’m sure you remember that.”

Steve makes a face, giving up on his zipper. What he remembers about his sex life with Nancy is mostly too sad to dwell on, except during his most pathetic, embarrassing shower sessions and wet dreams. Things were good between them, of course— she’s the most beautiful woman on the planet— but after that pivotal time at the party, in this very bedroom, things were never the same. Sex with Steve had begun to remind Nancy of her dead friend, which would have been a mood-killer for Clark and Lois. Really, he shouldn’t have been surprised when she dumped his ass for Jonathan.

“What about this?” Steve imagines that Jonathan is right next to him on the bed instead of two thousand miles away. He turns his head to face the other pillow, but his eyes stay firmly closed. “Shouldn’t you… talk to Nancy about this?”

Once again, Jonathan effortlessly flips his world upside down with a sentence: “We did.” He sounds almost amused. “That’s why I hung up on you. I freaked out, and called her.”

Steve sits up so fast his head spins. “You called her? You— what did you tell her?”

“I told her you were drunk and trying to hook up with me,” says Jonathan, like it’s not a big deal at all. “And then her mother kicked her off the phone and chewed me out for calling the house so late.”

“But,” splutters Steve, “what did Nancy say?”

“She was really excited,” Jonathan admits. Steve, himself, is really excited— in fact, he thinks he might throw up for reasons entirely unrelated to the consumption of alcohol. “She asked for details, and I said I’d let her know if you called back. Then Mrs. Wheeler got on the line.”

He stares at the empty walls of his room, desperately trying to make sense of what Jonathan is telling him. “She wasn’t mad?”

“She was furious. Kept going on about time zones and all that shit.”

“Jonathan, I mean Nancy.”

“Steve, I know. I’m just teasing. You sound so tense.” Steve wonders how any man could feel relaxed while hearing this information. “Yeah, she was excited, and… a little nervous; she warned me it might have been a prank or something, but then I said ‘what if it’s not’, and she said ‘well, if it’s not, then obviously’… yeah.”

Steve gapes. “Obviously?”

“Yeah,” Jonathan echoes. “And asked for details.”

“Makes sense,” he says, weakly. “She’s a great reporter.”

“So, details.” Jonathan’s voice sinks down again, and Steve mirrors the change in tone, lying back down. He’s still reeling from the news that his plot to make Nancy jealous has been found dead in the water, and instead it seems that Jonathan and Nancy have machinations of their own. “Did you listen to what I said?”

“About Nancy?”

“About leaving the kitchen. Where are you now, Steve?”

“Oh. The— my bed.”

Jonathan exhales, “Good,” and Steve starts to melt. “And what are you doing right now in your bed?”

“Taking my shoes off,” he answers honestly, which startles another laugh out of Jonathan.

“That’s… a good place to start, I guess. How drunk are you, man?”

“I just feel… I don’t know. I feel good.” Keeping up the honesty is probably a good bet. “I like that you told Nancy. I like that she… likes the idea. She’s thinking about it, maybe.”

The line is silent, but live with Jonathan’s breathing. Steve’s chest rises and falls in sync. “Thinking about what, exactly?”

Right. Details. “This isn’t what I’d pictured,” Steve tells him. “I never imagined you out in California. In my head, you’re still the same scrawny, skinny kid forever stuck in Hawkins. Doesn’t make sense, you living so far away. Do you have a tan now?”

“Not really,” he admits, sounding sheepish. “I look pretty much the same. Taller, maybe.”

“I doubt it. Bet you’re still small enough for me to pick you up, toss you around.”

“You could try it,” Jonathan huffs.

“Bet you’re used to taking the lead with Nancy,” Steve continues, closing his eyes again. He kicks off his other shoe. “You ever been with someone bigger than you? I mean, someone who could really put you where they wanted?”

“You’re not so big,” says Jonathan. He sounds uncertain— it sends goosebumps down Steve’s arms. “Where would you want to put me?”

“I’d like to pin you down and watch your face as I get you off.” The reaction is immediate— the bitten-off gasp is a sound Steve will treasure forever. “I would want you in my bed, in my car… I don’t know. Everywhere. I’d want you to ride me.”

“Jesus.”

“I’d ride you too,” Steve hastens to add. “I’m not totally unfair.”

Jonathan makes a noise somewhere between a cough and a whimper.

“I used to think about making you suck me off, back when I was still kind of learning what blowjobs were and so they were pretty much all I could ever think about. You have a really pretty mouth,” he goes on even as Jonathan’s breath hitches, “and I think you would look good on your knees.”

“I do,” Jonathan says. “I mean, I would, I— Nancy tells me all the time.”

“What, you suck her off?” Steve laughs, except the noise kind of dies in his throat because Jonathan doesn’t laugh too. He puts the phone down, suddenly desperate to be free of his clothing. Throwing his work vest and shirt towards the dresser, followed by his jeans and briefs, he lies back down and repeats his question. “You go down on her?”

“Of course,” says Jonathan, kind and sweet and kind of dirty. Steve shuffles around until he’s comfortable under the blankets, and he can hold the phone in one hand and his dick in the other. He would usually grab lotion from his bedside table, maybe stop at a non-family video store on the way home from work to pick up a tape. Right now he doesn’t need any of that; he’s too close just from the sound of Jonathan’s voice. “I could do that for you too. I never thought it was something you’d want.”

“Well, you know what they say, Byers.” Steve palms himself, fucking in and out of his fist slowly. It’s too hot, too sensitive, too intimate. He clenches, his muscles tightening as he thinks about Jonathan doing the same. “If you scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours.”

Sure enough, there’s a quiet noise other than Jonathan’s voice. The connection isn’t clear enough for him to hear everything, but he can connect the dots. Jonathan says, still sounding strangled, “Did you manage to get your shoes off?”

“Yeah, now I’m working on getting my rocks off.”

A groan, low and a second too long. “Ugh. Nancy could’ve warned me you liked to tell jokes in bed.”

“What, am I not cool enough for you, California? Should I, like, tone it down, brochacho?”

“You’re kidding, but I do actually have a friend out here who sounds exactly like that.” Steve speeds up, his hips thrusting forward in small, jerky movements as Jonathan talks. God, he’s in so much trouble if he’s just getting off to the sound of the guy’s voice. He twists his wrist for a better angle as Jonathan continues, “You’re plenty cool enough for me, Indiana.”

“Hey, you’re Indiana too,” Steve reminds him. “God, I’m so— can you do more of the phone sex stuff?”

“Who says this isn’t the phone sex stuff? Maybe two guys jerking off together, talking about the state they grew up in is high-quality phone sex,” Jonathan teases. Now who’s telling jokes in bed? “You want me to give you the serious script, Harrington?”

“I want you to stop fucking around and put me on loudspeaker,” Steve gasps.

For a beat, Jonathan is silent. Then he does; the audio quality is slightly different, and Steve can more clearly hear skin-on-skin. Jonathan picks up the pace and Steve matches his rhythm, groaning through grinding teeth. When Jonathan speaks, he sounds nervous now. “Better?”

“Almost,” Steve says. “I want you to touch yourself. Keep touching yourself, the way you do when you do this with your girlfriend.” Jonathan’s breath hitches, and the sounds pick up— they are filthy in the best way. Steve is beyond glad they’re both home alone. His legs shake as he keeps going. “Except it’s different, right? When Nancy gets off she seizes up, right, like her whole body goes tight. With us, it’s different, and I want to hear you, wanna hear every part of it. I want you to ruin those fucking sheets.”

“Fuck,” gasps Jonathan. Steve tightens his grip too. “I wish—” and then before he can deliver that wish, he’s grunting, loud and primal and unmistakably masculine, as he comes all over himself. Steve can just picture it, those nimble, pale fingers wrapped around his dick— except he doesn’t exactly know what Jonathan’s dick looks like, so he has to make do with thinking about his own. And right as he’s about to sail over the edge, Jonathan breathes, “I bet Nancy’s getting off right now too.”

Well. It’s embarrassing how instantaneous Steve’s orgasm is after he hears that.

After all the discussing and imagining, as Jonathan had called it, they both come down slowly and in shared, comfortable silence. Steve sinks back down to sober, cold Earth like a fluttering leaf, and even after the reality of what just happened hits him he still doesn’t feel ready to accept it. The hard, unflinching truth is that Steve feels better right now than he ever has after sex, and Jonathan isn’t even here. He thinks he almost feels better right now than he ever has in his entire life. Uh oh.

“So,” Steve finally breaks the quiet post-orgasm haze lingering between them. “Are you coming home for spring break?”

[matousakuraistrans]

While I'm talking about people whining about "censorship" and "localization" that's literally just putting slightly more clothes on often young female characters and some other silly shit and justifications for their melodrama here and there, these people have absolutely nothing to bitch about in the grand scheme of things. Most of these dorks who whine about sony censorship or nisa translation or whatever like it's the end of the world and cry wolf when some 13 year old anime girl gets more clothing in a worldwide release have absolutely no real issue to complain about, because these mostly console focused jrpg fans don't even know how good they have it. When there's something that some company might not like or think won't look good in their own market, they just change it slightly by again maybe adding more clothing and changing some words or terms here and there and releasing it that way, and that's generally the type of stuff that the anti censorship nerds complain about. But the thing is that at least they aren't at risk of not getting the game they want release at all based on the inconsistent whim of whatever racist ass nigga is looking at it in the moderation team of the biggest storefront in gaming that can make or break a game's worldwide sales especially whether it gets released on there or not. Anti censorship nerds who complain about console jrpgs being slightly changed don't deal with half as much as visual novel fans that have to cross their fingers and hope steam doesn't abrbitrarily decide to give some of the greatest games in the medium and their companies the middle finger and completely fuck their sales in the process over racist ass double standards that'd never get a triple a or more western looking game banned. It's not exclusively something visual novels deal with on steam so much as any game that looks even vaguely "anime", but it's still a world of difference to just outright potentially never get a game officially released in english at all based on the sheer inconsistent and mind changing whim of whoever happens to be looking at it that they and deciding whether they're going to get racist about it or not.

[2af-afterdark]

(Excuse me, this shall be a ramble)

So, I was playing WHB before an exam this morning, and I started going through the opinions area to like a few comments and get a few extra gems, and I got to Eligos and saw a couple folks that were surprised about Eligos being a tank/defense demon. And it just kinda occurred to me:

I've never stopped to think about the fact that Eligos is tank/defense before.

Like, he looks like such an adorable and not at all beefy twink, his design absolutely doesn't scream tank. At all. Especially not when compared to all the other tank/defense demons. But thinking about it, that's kind of perfect, to me at least.

He's literally the definition of "looks can be deceiving"

For example, a scenario obviously outside of game mechanics:

Imagine being an enemy, you look at a demon like Valefor in his tough and bulky armor and you think, "I need to hit that bitch really hard, like harder than the other ones, cuz he can clearly take a hit"

Then, imagine seeing Eligos, this cutesy-looking scrawny twink of a demon, covered in soft bows and delicate ribbons, with no armor. The first assumption would probably be "Too easy, he probably can't even take a punch". As an enemy, you'd probably attack him like a normal enemy, or maybe not even put as much effort because you assume he's not that tough.

Now imagine being the enemy, taking a half-assed swing at the scrawny guy, slamming your weapon into his stomach. Only for the scrawny guy that you assumed was weak, to take the hit the hit without any difficulty. And then you get punched in the face really hard because you're too caught off guard to swing your weapon again in time.

In short, Eligos doesn't look like the stereotypical defense character, and I think that's absolutely perfect, both in concept and visuals.

(Plus, the idea of something twice Eligos' size trying to punch him, and Eligos just reacting like the giant buff enemy in every hero franchise, the kind where they don't flinch at all and the hero realizes they fucked up before getting hit back, is absolutely hilarious to me)

Personally, I have been a weeb, dork, gamer, nerd since the very moment I was born (grew up in my local sci-fi convention circuit) so the idea of a twink with tank abilities is nothing new to me. Designs are more for fun or, for some parts (like color), are symbolic. Plus, there is the concept of moe, where the gap between a character's looks and personality is part of the appeal.

Eligos is a character who likes being cute and adorable and pampered, but he is also incredibly violent, gluttonous, and tanky. Specifically, he's the kind of tank that takes the hits for his allies, which kind of goes against the idea of wanting to be pampered. It's entirely possible that he leans more naturally toward a tank-like fighting style, and that explains why he wants to be cute and pampered outside of battle. His bottomless stomach could also be explained by him needing all those extra calories in order to prepare for the next time he needs to fight. Or, he has a very high metabolism and that keeps him thin no matter how much he eats.

Eligos is just a very traditional example of gap moe and I love him! I am still hoping for josou seme Eligos, but I doubt we will be getting that.

[new2fivesauce]

Classically Your's... - Eddie Munson

Summary: Eddie is being this soft, romantic guy the week of your upcoming anniversary and you have nothing to compensate until the day of. (5.2k words of fluff)

No warnings, just Eddie being fucking in love with you.

A/N: I couldn't get out of my head that Eddie gives off golden retriever boyfriend and I know for a fact that he would just be like the best boyfriend ever and would be all lovey dovey. He just gives off those vibes. This is probably just a nonsense fic too, lots of words. Also I was inspired by the Pop Goes Classical (<-link)playlist on Spotify because I'm just a dork who really likes classical shit. Thanks and enjoy :)

When Eddie Munson and you initially got together your junior year and his first senior year, it was the talk of the school for about a week. You two weren’t necessarily the most popular people for either one of you to make the front page of the school paper but you had. You weren’t on the cheer team, you didn’t play sports, you weren’t even in the marching band. You had opted for the softer option and was the top violinist in the orchestra and Eddie… Well Eddie was Eddie.

This was now his second senior year making him a year older than you. He was also not in sports or extracurriculars, but he was a nerd underneath the long hair, dark clothes, and metal rings. He was known as a troublemaker and the school drug dealer, but he wasn’t just that person to you. He was an avid reader, not that he let anyone know that fact. He was greatly interested in mythology and had a poster in his room that connected the aspects of his favorite fantasy game, Dungeons and Dragons, to mythological and folklore. He was also a very good musician, something that the both of you could relate to very well and talk about for hours. He was incredibly musically inclined and just by hearing a song once or twice, he could pick up the rhythm and notes and play it almost exactly note for note on his guitar.

Now Eddie’s music was not particularly kind to the ears of Hawkins’ people. The whole town was going through a panic, blaming metal music and fantasy games for the bad things happening not just in this weird, small town but the whole world too. Fortunately for you, you nor your parents fell for that crap. Sometimes you felt as if your parents were from some different planet. 

The first time you mentioned the long haired boy and your sudden love interest in him to your mother, her eyes lit up like lights on a Christmas tree. “OH! You must bring him to dinner some day.” She had insisted. When you brought it up to Eddie, he was surprised. Typically parents and especially parents of girls he was seeing did not approve of him, but after some careful consideration, he went to dinner one night and he was accepted so fast, Eddie believed he was being pranked. He was low-key expecting someone to come out from a bush and yell GOTCHA!! in his face and then premiere his reaction on the local news channel.

Your mother, Donna, adored him. Your mother, quite the talker she was, could talk to him forever and Eddie never minded. Sometimes, you believed, he needed this maternal interaction since his mom was not in the picture.  Your mom didn’t care about his appearance; she did, however, care about his well being. Seeing as Eddie only lived with his uncle in the not best part of town and was often left alone to fend for himself, your mom always made sure he was well fed, often sending you to school with care packages full of home baked sweets and home cooked easy microwave dinners when his schedule was full from DnD games, band practice, and whatever shenanigans he put himself through the week. Eddie, who had always been scrawny even as a kid, had finally started to fill out and gained a decent amount of weight from your mom’s cooking. He wasn’t anywhere close to being pudgy, but often commented jokingly that Donna would be the death of him if she didn't stop feeding him.

Your dad, James, although a bit hesitant and not as accepting at first as his wife, around the second time Eddie came over for dinner, he had been fully embraced by the patriarch of your family. Your father could tell that Eddie was smart and very well versed in books, music, movies, and world news. Eddie had even beat your dad at Monopoly one family night. Your dad never lost. Your dad was so proud to finally have lost a game and suddenly they had this very close relationship. Eddie had even started teaching your dad about Dungeons and Dragons and they would talk battle strategies until dinner was ready.

You didn’t think your life could be any better than it currently was… until you realized that your one year anniversary with Eddie was a week away. You only remembered when one day as you stepped up to your locker at school and opened it, a bouquet of orange lilies (your favorite) in a small vase was placed on top of your books. You plucked the small note stuffed between the petals and read it.

Your laugh is like music to my ears - EM

You pressed the small, white card to your chest, your entire body filling with giddiness and pure love for this boy. You recalled the time he had said that to you, for even though you’d known Eddie for a long time having grown up in the same small town, you had never talked to him until your sophomore year of high school. 

He had been running in the hall, apparently making a getaway from some jocks that he had pulled a prank on, when he slipped and knocked you and your books over. He apologized profusely as he helped you pick up your belongings. One of the books you had was Shakespeare. He had made a joke that made you laugh so hard, you snorted. You hid your mouth behind your hand in embarrassment, but he had looked at you in awe. “Your laugh… is like music to my ears. Don’t be embarrassed of it.” 

—---------

The next day, you met Eddie in the woods next to the school. He was sitting on the top of the picnic table where he often did his little drug deals with the student body of Hawkins High. He heard your footsteps crunch the leaves and a smile as bright as the sun appeared on his face when he saw you walking up to him. You couldn’t help but smile back even though you had had a gnawing feeling in your gut since the day before after receiving the flowers. When Eddie handed you a flat sturdy square, horribly wrapped with the biggest bow he could manage to put on it, the feeling got even worse.

“For me?” You asked through feigned surprise. He nodded, scooting to the edge of the table as you began to unwrap the gift. It was Michael Jackson’s Thriller on vinyl. Your eyes widened in glee as your eyes scanned the front of the vinyl cover and then flipped it over to read the song tracks. Over the song track PTY (Pretty Young Thing), there was a taped tiny blue paper that read You are my…

Read together it said You are my PTY. You laughed and squeezed the vinyl in your arms gently. 

“Eddie!!” You squealed as you put the record on the table first then wrapped your arms around his neck. “Oh my God! Where did you find this? I can’t even imagine you walking into a store asking for Michael Jackson!” 

You pulled back to look at his face, his hands were at your waist. He shrugged shyly. “I just want to make you happy.” He mumbled. You shook your head, mumbling I love you as you inched forward to kiss him. 

You couldn’t believe it. This man must have gone far to get you the record you had wanted so bad. Eddie was a metalhead through and through and he despised your love for mainstream music. He tolerated it like you tolerated his music, although he had admitted that MJ was a very good entertainer. The reason you wanted the vinyl was because your parents had bought you the tape three times already and every time you wore it out. Vinyl would last longer, but Hawkins was such a tiny town and the music stores still had music from the 60s. Anything current had to be purchased in the city.

“Eddie…” you started, peeping at your boyfriend through your eyelashes. “You know you don’t have to do all this.” you said quietly. He placed a hooked finger under your chin, the thick, silver ring on his digit felt cold on your skin and it sent a slight shiver down your spine.

“I want to do this.” he told you sternly. “You are my first real girlfriend and I want to do everything right. You see those couples walking down the hall everyday. They look happy but they’re not. Then they break up and the whole school takes sides. I don’t want that. I don’t ever want you to hate me if something were to happen to us.” 

His eyes closed for a moment. His eyebrows were knitted together; there was something troubling him, but when he opened his eyes again and looked at you, whatever was wracking inside his brain seemed to dissipate.

—---

Day Three’s gift was all black geometric sunglasses similar to the ones that Madonna wore in her Into the Groove music video. The first time you had allowed Eddie into your room, he had pointed out the Madonna poster that you had hanging on your wall. He liked her music. “It’s catchy.” It was one of the very few artists’ tapes that he had in his van collection… just for you to listen to whenever he picked you up.

—----

Day Four’s gift was a Pat Benatar t-shirt. It was black, faded, and had the female artist in a power pose. You slipped the tee over your powder blue top immediately and admired it from your view. “This is so sweet.” you commented, grinning up at Eddie. He brushed his hair back with one of his ringed hands coyly. 

“I knew you’d love it.” he said. And indeed you did. Love is a Battlefield was your anthem. It was also the song that you and Eddie first danced to.

You had been invited to one of Steve Harrington’s big parties. All your friends were going with their boyfriends/girlfriends and you wanted to go so bad. However, you were reluctant to tell Eddie about it. He never intentionally got invited to these types of events. He usually just crashed them or would pop up outside and sell weed. He was the one that brought it up and you were surprised when he did.

“I actually got invited this time.” he mentioned, his eyes flickering over to the jock table. “I guess you give me some type of good rep.” he shrugged.

You could tell Eddie was uncomfortable the second you arrived. He picked a beer from one of the coolers placed around the house and retreated to a dark corner to people-watch. He let you have a good time with your friends and when Love is a Battlefield began playing loudly through the speakers, Eddie saw the way your face lit up and immediately turned to him. You beckoned him over to the dance floor with a wave of your hand and he shook his head no, a smirk teasing on his face. 

You pouted, no doubt, before shuffling through the crowd to get to him before the song ended. You grabbed his hands and pulled with all your might as Eddie dug the heels of his boots further into the linoleum floor of Steve’s living room. 

“You know I don’t dance.” he groaned as you pulled harder, his body barely moving forward a centimeter.

“Just this once! Please!?” You looked at him with the saddest puppy eyes you could manage. He ran a hand down his face, groaning in discontent and begrudgingly let you pull him to the dance floor.

You could feel everyone’s eyes suddenly fall onto the two of you. Eddie stood still as you tried to encourage him by placing his hands on your waist. The song was half over and even if he just shimmied his body just once, you would die happy. But he did you one even better. As the song got to the chorus, his hands dropped from your waist whilst taking a deep breath.

“Please don’t laugh” he remarked as he burst into the choreography move set from the music video. Your hands flew to your mouth in absolute astoundment but recovered quickly to join him. The bystanders around you realized what the two of you were doing and joined in as well until the song ended. 

When the song finished and transitioned into a slow one, you stayed on the floor, arms wrapped around Eddie’s torso and his around yours. 

“What the hell was that?” you asked, trying not to laugh. He bent his head forward, placing his forehead on yours, ignoring the giggles that were slipping from your tight lips. He couldn’t help but cheese back at you. 

“You do know that you’ve shown me that video countless times. I’m sure your mom could do those moves in her sleep.” 

“But you know the moves?” you questioned, an eyebrow arching.

With a roll of eyes, he said “I might have practiced in the shower once or twice.”

—---

On Day 5, Eddie was supposed to take you home after band practice. He took a detour to his trailer first though. He made you wait inside the van while he dashed inside. He came out a few minutes later, his guitar case in one hand and a small box in the other. He handed you the box when he got back into his seat.

“Uhh Eddie… what is this?” you stared at the box. It wasn’t small enough for a ring, but jewelry was a big step up from the other gifts Eddie had given you.

His foot was nervously tapping the floor as he watched you take off the lid. Inside was a small bracelet. When you lifted it out of the box, you realized that it was made from a guitar string. A little skull charm hung off of it. 

You lifted it up to your eye level, studying the charm and the grooves on the string.

“That’s the guitar string that broke at the first show you ever went to see me play at.” 

You briefly remembered the way Eddie loudly cursed on the microphone when he plucked the string too hard after he saw you walk  into the bar. He had invited you to watch earlier that day, but since you hadn’t given him a definitive answer, he didn’t think you were going to come.

He gently plucked the bracelet from your hand so that he could help put it on your left wrist. Your lips trembled, eyes filling up with tears.

“You’re such a fucking romantic.” you whispered, your right hand softly running over the bracelet. 

“Eh, I try.” he said. He eyed you curiously, making sure that you were okay before he put the van in drive and began heading in the direction of your house.

The pit in your stomach now felt like it was going to eat you from the inside. You were still stuck on what to get Eddie. You had scribbled ideas in your journal, even asked some of your friends, but nothing seemed good enough. You had the terrible notion that maybe Eddie knew you better than you knew him. Gosh, you were a freaking terrible girlfriend.

It was a comfortable silence on the way to your house. Eddie had just gotten the new Metallica album on tape so that was playing quietly in the background. He had bought a tape for you too. Even though he knew you were not too fond of metal, you did enjoy the guitar riffs. 

“You okay, Y/N?” Eddied asked as he turned into your neighborhood. You nodded. “Am I doing too much?” 

You didn’t want to tell him yes. You knew if you did it would feel like you were rejecting him. “I like this side of you.” You replied. “I like that you’ve taken what I like into consideration even if it’s not exactly you.”

He nodded. “Okay… I don’t have a gift for you tomorrow.” he said as he pulled into your driveway. “I kinda ran out of ideas, but I have one more. I’ll give it to you on the day of.”

As you grabbed your belongings, Eddie asked you if you had had a chance to listen to the new Metallica tape. You shook your head no.

“I know it’s hard for you to listen to. You being a classical enthusiast or whatever, but listen to the title track. Puppets is…” he paused to think of a word to describe it. “Indescribable.”

You laughed at his lack of choice of words, but promised him that you would listen to it. 

When you entered your house, your mom was in the kitchen. She greeted you by placing a pb&j sandwich at the kitchen bar. You climbed up to a stool and began peeling off the crusts. Your mom looked out to the living room as in expecting someone to strut in behind you.

“Eddie had band practice today.” you said. Your mom pursed her lips, turning to look at the magnetic calendar on the fridge. She shook her head. 

“No, today is DnD.” she said, pointing at today’s date. In Eddie’s handwriting it read EM - DnD at 5:30. Your mom wasn’t a creeper. She didn’t try to live vicariously through you or Eddie, but she liked to know when Eddie was coming to dinner so she could make his favorites. Eddie had gotten so used to your comfortable home life, that he just did things on a whim as if he truly lived there, … including notifying your mom of his after school things.

“Yeah, but the Wheeler kid couldn’t make practice so he canceled that and he has a show coming up soon so…” you didn’t finish your sentence but your mom understood.

She nodded and then went back to clearing up the pb&j mess on the counter.

After your snack, you stayed in the kitchen, talking to your mom and showing off the gifts you’d received. You mentioned that you were stuck on not knowing what to give in return. 

“He’s going above and beyond for me, Mom!” You nearly cried, your tears stinging your eyes as you tried to hold them back. “I feel so bad because I don’t know what to do. You know, he’s even going to the recital next week? He’s told me he only likes classical music because I play violin! He’s too perfect.” you signed, dropping your head onto the counter.

The bang caused your mother to look at you with some concern. She tried to give you some advice, but your parents were together for metaphorically centuries but this was a new relationship. A one year anniversary was either a make it or break it situation in the world of high school.

You thanked your mom for trying to help before trudging to your bedroom. You tossed your backpack on the bed, causing some of your items to fall out. You rolled your eyes, annoyed at yourself. You picked up the stuff off the floor, leaving the Metallica tape Eddie had given you last week for last. You peeled off the plastic wrapping off of it and placed it in your cassette player. You put the volume on the lowest setting. 

You were studying your music for your recital for next week, practicing some of the measures when the introduction of Master of Puppets interrupted your thoughts. You turned up the volume of the radio slightly and you were quickly engrossed by the music.

Your foot tapped gently on your carpeted floor, your head bobbed to the beat, and your left hand was fingering the strings of your violin trying to figure out the notes. 

Suddenly an idea popped in your head. “Holy shit.” You whispered as you quickly got up and went to grab the phone from the kitchen.

—--

You were late. You shoved your violin into its case and snapped it shut in a haste. You threw the strap of the case over your shoulder, grabbed your backpack and threw the strap of that over your other shoulder and dashed out of your room.

You slipped into the kitchen to grab a pack of pop tarts from the pantry. Your mother was at the breakfast nook, reading the morning paper. She looked up at you but didn’t ask anything, just furrowed her brows and went back to drinking her coffee and reading. 

“Bye Mom!” you called out as you made your way to the front door. You hadn’t even bothered to look up after swinging the door open; you were so occupied with trying to open your breakfast that you bumped straight into a body. He hmphed as you bounced back, almost dropping your pop tarts.

“Eddie!” you exclaimed, stumbling with regaining your balance. You shoved the straps on your shoulders back to comfortable positions as the boy in front of you scanned his eyes over you curiously.

You were in jean shorts, a Hawkins hoodie, long socks and beat up Vans sneakers. Your hair was put up high in a ponytail and your face makeup free. 

“Going somewhere?” he asked, his dark eyes darting over the bags on your shoulders. You arched your head and stood on your tippy toes to look over Eddie’s shoulder. A tan car was pulling into your driveway and you could see that it was Tim, your orchestra buddy who sat next to you in class. He took a glance at what you were looking at and scoffed.

“I am.” You answered nonchalantly. You waited for him to step aside so you could make your way to your ride, but he didn’t budge.

“I could have given you a ride.” his tone was bored, but you could tell he was hurt just a tiny bit.

“I didn’t want to wake you.” you lied. He didn’t take it.

“So you wake up Tim? The guy who’s been suddenly crushing on you since we got together.” 

Eddie was not usually the jealous type. He didn’t make a big show of making sure everyone knew that you were his and his only. It was just a given. But he didn’t fuck with Tim like that. You didn’t know why, nor did you really care because you didn’t see yourself dumping Eddie for that guy. Tim was just a friend.

“Ah, Eddie…” you paused to try to find the right words. “It’s a recital thing. Something came up last minute and Mr. D gave us some new music to rehearse.”

Eddie stared into y/e/c eyes, squinting a bit as if trying to read your mind. When you didn’t so much as blink back, he stepped backwards, with a bow and wave of his arm. “See you around, my lady.” 

You could hear the sarcasm in his voice, but you skipped away and hopped into Tim’s car.

—---

You awoke with a start and realized that today was the day. You’d officially been together with Eddie Munson for one year. You tried to stretch but there was something heavy at your feet. You sat up and saw that there was a big box at the end of the bed. This box was carefully wrapped in pink wrapping paper and a white bow. Your eyes were wide with curiosity as you crawled to the end of the bed and pulled the box into your lap. 

The inside of the box was filled with white tissue paper and cushioned in the middle of the paper was a scrapbook. The scrapbook was black, obviously, and had giant stickers of your initials and Eddie’s. The book was thick and was tightly closed by a leather string that was tied around the book.

You untied it and began flipping through it. The book had everything from your first year with Eddie. Your eyes welled up with tears as you skimmed the pages. There was the front page article of when the two of you were in the Hawkins newspaper, a scrap of a menu from the local dinner where Eddie took you on a first date, the hand drawn flier of the first Corroded Coffins show you went to, the ticket stub from the homecoming dance, the note that he tossed to you in the lunchroom that was Eddie asking you to be girlfriend, tons of polaroid pictures, and other little memorabilia. 

Your heart hurt as you reviewed the book again. Your body was so full of emotions, you couldn’t help but let a few tears slip.

You got ready hastily. You had to see Eddie.

You parked outside of the Munson home. You grabbed the book and rushed to the door. Before you could knock, the door swung open to reveal a shirtless Eddie, hair ruffled and face still puffy from sleep.

“I heard your car.” he mumbled, gently rubbing the drowsiness from one of his eyes. 

You held up the scrapbook to his face. “You made this?!”

He hmmmed and you took it as a yes. You attached your body to his so fast, he almost lost his balance. 

“Seriously! This is the sweetest thing ever.” you gushed, flipping through the pages once more with him looking. He ushered you into his place so that you both wouldn’t be standing out in the morning sun. “I can’t believe you kept all of these tiny memories. Eddie, who knew you were such a softie?”

He led you to his room and closed the door behind you.

“Like I told you, I just want to make you happy and everything in that book is times that you’ve me happy. I love you, Y/N and I know that’s weird coming from your local metalhead with tattoos and rad hair, but it’s fuckin’ true.”

You pressed a hand to your chest whilst giving him a soft look. He took the book from you to place it on his messy dresser. He took you into his arms and leaned down to kiss you. 

Before things could get steamy, you pulled away, earning you a whine from Eddie as he lost the warmth of your body. 

You beckoned him to sit on his bed while you stood in front of him. He tried to make a grab for you but you stepped back. You couldn’t let him distract you. His eyes swept over your body as they usually did when you were acting abnormally. He knew there was something weird going on when you grew fidgety.

“Y/N…” he began, but you held up your hand to stop him.

“I know I've been a little odd this week. Honestly, I almost forgot that our anniversary was today… until you put those lilies in my locker, I remembered… and on the second day, you gave me another gift and then another and another. I felt like I was so imcompetant. How could I forget?”

“You had a lot of things on your mind…” Eddie tried to reason.

“No, well yeah, but that wasn’t it. I felt like you were putting in so much effort into the relationship and you know that’s not how we are. But your gifts were so carefully thought out; I can’t even imagine how long you’ve been putting all this together…”

“Well your mom helped me out some. She did the frilly things in the scrap–”

You shushed him so you could finish getting your speech out.

“...and I was just stuck. I didn’t know where to even begin… I finally listened to the Metallica tape you bought me when it dawned on me… Our love language… It’s music. From the beginning. Even though you’re metal and I’m you know, a mix of classical and pop, we still express a lot of our feelings through songs. You’ve made me countless mix tapes with songs that make you think of me. I’ve made you tapes of songs that have played in the background of places we’ve been to.”

You walked over to his boombox as you pulled a cassette case from your pullover kangaroo pocket. 

“I didn’t have a gift for everyday leading up till today, but I made this for you and I hope you like it because it’s a little bit of me and it’s a little bit of you.”

You placed the cassette in the player and pushed play, making sure to turn up the volume because Eddie liked his music loud.

There was static as the tape started, followed by some general room noises, some footsteps, a clearing throat, the tapping of a baton on a music stand.

Then the sudden start of multiple violins began and you thought he would realize the tune quickly because this was one of his top bands, but the instruments must have thrown him off since it took Eddie a good minute to recognize the tune.

Master of Puppets by Metallica. (link)

His eyes widened, his eyebrows went to the ceiling as he realized that the violin was you. He darted his eyes to and from the boombox to you, his mouth in a perfect circle with a fist covering it. As the song got to the climax, his brown eyes began to gush up with impending tears. You’d never seen him cry, not even out of anger, frustration, or sadness, but you’d seen him get wrecked over music before, but not to this extent.

When the last notes of the song faded out, you pushed stop on the player. You faced Eddie. He was still sitting, his body like a statue with the look of surprise still on his face.

“This is why you were hanging with Tim yesterday?” he suddenly asked. You nodded.

“He's the second chair, I needed his help, plus we got together with some other kids to fill in on the other instruments. It took us all day to figure out the song.” You explained. “Believe it or not, you’re not the only one with a good ear.”

At last, released from his stupor, Eddie jumped off his bed and embraced you tightly. 

“That was fuckin’ amazing! I can’t believe that was you! That was you taking on those riffs on your dainty, little violin!” He grabbed your left hand and saw that you had brand new calluses on your fingers. He held up his hand next to yours. “Shit, we really match now.” Noting the calluses on his fingers too from his guitar playing.

He kissed you deeply, gripping your waist tight and pulling you so close you could feel the heat rising off the bare skin of his torso. “You’re incredible. That’s going to live in my brain forever. We need to collaborate now.”

“Whatever you say. You know I’m yours.” you whispered as he reached behind you to rewind the tape and play it again before he snuggled his face into your neck, giving you a playful nibble.

“Can’t wait to see what you come up with on our next anniversary.” he mumbled, taking you back to his bed to show you how much he truly loved and appreciated you.

[buckarooey]

The Dnap Ex Best Friends to Lovers AU

so it goes like this. It all begins with these two little nerds who meet on an mcpvp server. You've heard it before, 123 and all that. So little Sap and Dream become bestie friends! Until that fateful incident happens

There was an agrument that was had with one of dream's other friends that resulted in Dream blocking Sap! HE begged and begged and BEGGED Dream to unblock him and make things work out... but that never happened. With advice from Sapnap's circle of friends and shared mutuals, it was decided that it would be best to move on. So Sap, being the ever sensitive one, takes this very hard. While still in contact with other friends, him and Dream drifted apart just like that

They both grow up not knowing much about what happened in each other's lives. Doesn't help that they're half the country away from each other. Dream's other friend on the other hand, turned out to be a bit of an asshole. So Dream dropped him, but he still felt horrible for the way he treated Sap. When going to unblock him, he sees that Sap had moved onto another account, one he doesn't know of. He decides to let this sleeping dog lay and picks himself up and try to heal from the heartbreak that he caused to himself

Cut to years in the future, college. Love it, hate it, it's a unique experience either way. Dream is at one of the local frat parties. You could easily mistake him for a football player, but after a short time you'd see how much of a sweet dork he really is. It's the first party of the year and a lot of freshmen are here to whet their party appetites. Dream was going to go look for his friends when he caught the glimpse of one of the more shy freshmen.

Even from his distance, he can see that the younger man is much, much shorter than him. Compared to the other guys at the party even. He had on an anime hoodie and a dark cap that had cute reddish brunette hair curling around it. And oh god... those shorts are short on him. His thighs filling up the garment quite deliciously. He was looking around expectantly while also nursing a drink.

Oh he's cute!, Dream thought, Gonna take my shot!

So Dream strolls up as nonchalant as he could be (as in, clumsily working his way though a fairly thick crowd of drunk college students). Once he was able to make it to the wall the other was leaning on. The small man's eyes widened at the realization that this over 6ft tall jock looking guy is trying to talk to HIM!? Dream sees the way his cheeks deepen in shades of red, not helped by the drink no doubt

"This you're first party?" Dream asks

"Um... Yeah- is it that obvious? This isn't really my scene. I'm here with a friend..." His eyes dart around frantically at the waves of inebriated twenty-somethings in the vain hope of finding his friend. It really shouldn't be this difficult! Unless he's in another room.

Dream pulls up a move he's seen some other guys pull on girls. He rests his arm up against the wall, he thinks he looks so cool and suave. Even without the move, he still towered over the other. They get to talking and find out their both compsci majors! It doesn't take long to get into video games (nerds). The younger mentions that he's pretty into Valorant, aiming to gt platinum within the week! Dream, being a lover of simple things in life, brings up that he loves to play minecraft. Even works with his roommate to make sick mods for it. The other also expresses his fondness for the game, but admits it's been a long time since he's picked it back up. He's usually forced to play Roblox with his friend.

"We should play together sometime! Can I get your number so we can swap details later?"

"Y-yeah sure." Even under the dim lights of the house, Dream could catch the hint of excitement at the prospect of spending more time with this handsome young man. After he sounded out his number, all that was left was his name. FUCK! He actually forgot to introduce himself! He didn't even ask for the other's name!

"Sorry to- uh, ask this now but, what's you're name? My name is Dream, by the way!" It was hard to tell exactly what had happened in the next few seconds. First, was the other flinching, softly, but noticeable enough, wide and shocked eyes now looking up at him. Next was the shout that rang right behind him.

"SAPNAP! There you are! You had me so worried." A tall (but not as tall as Dream) guy rushed past him and inserted himself right between him and the stranger. In a quite rue manner by the way! A soft "Karl!" was all Dream could catch before a few more whispers exchanged between them. Karl quickly yet softly grasped Sapnap's(?) hand and they were out in a flash. Just another second later he heard commotion in the kitchen. Something about someone stealing a few of the (many mind you) bottles that were provided. The mixed laughter of the two freshmen filled Dream's ears as they ran out of the party scott-free.

It took a bit to prcess what happened. Then he looked down at his phone. Name still blank. Without even thinking, he typed in Sapnap. Then he sent a quick text.

Can't wait to talk again.

He then proceeded to find his own friends and tell them what happened

alright, so Sap knows who Dream is, but doesn't know who Sap is, and he wants to get to know him! Sap is really hesitant bc, well, the odds of this dream being his dream are not likely, but never zero. And the more Dream opens up about himself, yep this is- was his Dream. Sap is pretty cold on his end, but think he's an emotional masochist and lets himself be friends with Dream, even if he tries to keep it at arms distance

Soooo I want Dream to find out, but I'm not exactly sure how. My first idea was him looking at Sapnap's user on Namemc for whatever reason and he spots it. PandascanPVP. It made it heart swell. the world stopping but going by too fast at the same time.

Pandas. His Pandas. Before he knows it he's crying thinking back to what happened. How he carelessly took his other friend's side who turned out to be a huge asshole. But they're together again, just how the universe was meant to be! When he an Sap meet up again at Sap's room Dream gives him the biggest bear hug filled with all the love he was never able to give Pand- Sapnap over all these years

Dream says he's sorry for ever doing that to him. And that he really missed his friend, and that he's glad that they're back together! They can really catch up on life and play as much MC as they want and play with George's cool mods and-

Sapnap, on the other hand. Stood stock still as Dream poured his heart out. He could barely focus on what's going on around him. He thought he would be prepared for this moment, mostly because he wanted to be the one to bring it up. But now, it's all too suffocating. Whereas Dream cried with hop and happiness, Sapnap's tears sprung at the memories of what happened that night. The argument, the blocking, the constant begging to be acknowledged by one of the most important people to him at the time. It was hell. And Dream couldn't be there for him because he was the one that cut the contact. He didn't want to be there for him. And now here he is, in person all these years later. Acting like he can just sweep it under the rug and act like they can start all over with a fresh start.

Sapnap wasn't prepared to face this again. He never was. The worried questions from Dream were drowned out by the sobs wracking his body, too much was happening for him to deal with. He was too distraught to hear footsteps rushing in, his roommate Karl yelling at Dream and kicking him out. Karl goes through the steps on calming Sap down from his attack, enough to make sure that he's back down to earth and that Karl was there to help his friend no matter what. Sap really loved Karl for this, he's really appreciative to have a friend like him. Karl makes some fruity (contraband) drink to help calm the younger's nerves and they talk it out

Dream on the other hand is stunned. He feels horrible for what happened. This was the exact opposite of what he was trying to accomplish. But now he just made things worse it looks like. But... FUCK he can't lose Sapnap now, not when they just met each other again! Once he gets back to the apartment he asks George for some advice.

George calls him a huge idiot!!! But, actually does sit down and strategizes some possible plans. Overall. Go. Slow

So when Dream and Sapnap meet up for classes, it's hella akward. But Dream takes the advice to heart and doesn't jump right into it. Asking if it's ok if he can talk to talk to him today. Sap says no, but to give him time. Dream agrees and gives Sap the space he needs. Whenever there's college activities/ parties that they both attend, that gets awkward as well.

omg don't even get me STARTED on guard dog Karl. He's around Sap more since the incident as emotional support, and glares daggers at Dream. Making sure to let the him know that he hasn't forgot about what happened that night in their dorm room. So at some point Dream employs the help of George to distract Karl while he tries to mend whatever is left of his and Sap's relationship without Karl keeping him away

Over time they do get to talking about both sides about what happened and how that affected the both of them growing up. Maybe even imply that they would like to be something... even more

ehhh maybe throw in another wrench in Dream's plans by something happening that hurts Sapnap emotionally again, but it gets addressed properly this time and it doesn't take as long to start the healing process once more! They do have sex btw that's a guarantee!